


The Alliance

by Taylande



Series: Journal of the Elf [3]
Category: World of Warcraft
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Anxiety, Anyways I'm gonna stop tagging now, As in every other fucking chapter involving that dwarf, Before my ass gets out of hand, Bisexual Female Character, Cheating, Child Loss, Daddy Issues, Disabled Character, Emotional Manipulation, F/F, F/M, Flashbacks, Gay, Hate, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, It's just a formality at this point, Like lots of booze, Mentions of past abuse, Mommy Issues, More assassination, On-Again/Off-Again Relationship, Orphan elf is angsty, Past Abuse, Past Child Abuse, Past Relationship(s), Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Seriously she is a walking ball of angst, Sexual, Sexual Content, Sexual Tension, She's not even surprised anymore, Tay's finally healing from all the shit she did and dealt with, Why is there so much booze, With alcohol issues, booze, lying, survivor's guilt
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-05
Updated: 2017-09-03
Packaged: 2018-09-22 03:48:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 10
Words: 41,569
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9581954
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Taylande/pseuds/Taylande
Summary: Hey, maybe this time something nice will happen! Let's hope to the fucking Goddess.





	1. Sister

Two women, standing on one of Darkshore’s many islands. One soaked to the bone, missing a part of her body, a dagger in her hand. The other stood tall and proud, eyeless, dry and grinning, her fists at the ready. Both were tormented by whispers, whispers that threatened to drive them to the brink of insanity, perhaps even past that.

_You will only be accepted when you give in._

_Kill her, kill her! She shouldn’t even EXIST!_

The former shook away these whispers as if they were something that had always been there. Her teeth chattered away at the biting cold of the water soaking her clothing and her skin. Oh, how she hated the water. All because of that one little trip. That one supposedly harmless trip to Vashj’ir. 

“Shut up, shut up, shut UP!” the former screamed at nothing. “Elari… what the fuck? I thought you were my sister. By the Goddess I thought you’d help me.”

“Oh, Taylande. I had always loyal to our father. He wanted to get you back. Away from the Temple, so you could continue with his teachings.” The woman called Elari laughed and got into a crouching position, planning something. “You could have been glorious, could have had whatever you wanted.” 

Taylande only glared, gripping the dagger in her hand tighter and tighter, ‘til her knuckles went a bright pink. Dizziness swept through her, due to the cold of her clothing, and it nearly knocked her off her feet. She stood her ground, though, not daring to give up any to a delusional sibling who would most likely alert the other siblings. 

“You know I go by Tay, right? Fuck my full name. And fuck you, Elariel,” she spat. Tay glared daggers at her elder sibling, who had begun to change. _Damn druids!_ she thought. 

Elariel’s frame widened as she got onto her hands and her knees. Her legs got thicker, the leathers she wore blending into her body and posing as a sort of… fur? Her feet became wide and clawed, as did her hands. Arms became thicker, bearing much more strength in them as they, too, were covered in the sort of “fur” of whatever animal she had chosen this time. 

Within the next few seconds, she had assumed the form of a bear. But, the fur of the bear’s form bore not the same colorings as other druids. It, instead, grew to be a smoky black in color. In just moments, Elariel leapt upon her sibling, growling and roaring in her face. She raised her paw above her prey’s head, ready to bring it down on Tay’s face and scar it even further.

Tay, however, would have none of that. Ellemayne in her grip, she rammed it into her sister’s side, emitting a low growling from the latter. “You had better get the hell off me before I throw your ass into the Maelstrom. Better yet, I let Seranthi loose on you.” Tay grinned like an imp, shoving the blade as far into her sister as she could. It couldn’t be far ‘til she bled like a stuck pig, but Tay then gave it a few twists before ripping it out of her sibling. 

Elariel roared once and pulled herself off the other woman, shifting into her kaldorei form once more. She could no longer do much damage with the bear’s aspect, not after her sister rammed one of the Moon-Blessed blades into her ribs. She had both her hands on the wound when an idea struck her. Seranthi, the druid considered only a beast, would heed her mental calling. She, a druidess, knew the stupid beast would listen to her. 

She reached out, hoping the cat would be somewhere near. It had been her, after all, who had stabled the large frostsaber in Lor’danel, only a brief few miles north of them, when Tay had ran off those two weeks prior. It only took a moment, and the cat came running towards the duo. Now, all she had to do: stall her foolish sister long enough to drag her back to their father. Oh, how praised she would be for it. 

“Hey, asshole! I still exist,” Tay spat. She had Ellemayne extended out from her body, aimed at the other woman’s chest. If she’d not been foolish and ignored the demons defiling Ashenvale, she would have Silverblade. She would have her hand. She would have her sister’s dead body lying broken and bloodied at her feet. But now, she would try and attain that regardless of the circumstances. 

Elariel grinned, and began to laugh. Pain became present throughout it, and she began to speak. “Oh, come now my little fa’lore. Why did you leave our father? You could have had anything you’d wanted. A nice home, hot meals… that Gilnean--” Elariel spat the words like they were some sort of trash to be thrown away. “--Oh, what’s her name again?” 

Tay felt anger rise up inside her. How _dare_ her own blood speak of Val in that tone? _How dare they?_ She wished she still had that other hand of hers, along with another dagger closed into said hand to carve out Elariel’s throat. She had the feeling her psychotic sibling would try to use this to her own advantage, and Tay mentally repeated to herself to not do what her sister wanted. 

“Vellaena? Or had it been something more… disgusting than that? Filthy names for filthy worgen.” She grinned wider, unable to see if Tay had grown furious at the games she kept playing. Her mindless beast had almost arrived here, and she could threaten her little sibling even further. Maybe she’d even get Tay back to their father, wherever he holed up nowadays, through these means. 

“Oh, but you could have had her, too! Your little concubine,” she taunted. “Though, do tell! Do tell why you left our father for the life of a priestess. Where you always got told what to do by this woman, or that woman! Oh, and that other girl. Kalandra. She could also have been yours. But enough rambling from me. Please tell me why.”

Tay’s fingers wanted so desperately to not hold Ellemayne, all so they could twitch out of anger. How often her left hand would do that, and how she never spoke of it or thought of it or wrote of it to mask her problem, as her father would call it. “That stab wound isn’t looking so good. But if you insist on bleeding out, I’ll explain.” 

She tried to remain calm, launching into the truth. “All I ever fucking wanted in this life? A way out of the hell I lived in, a roof over my head, and one decent meal. There’s proof living with Father’d been hell, because it’s. ON. ME. Our Goddess-be-damned father, placed branding irons on my back as a punishment. He’d let me lay there after he did it, and when I still heaved and gasped in pain from those burns, he made me get up and do this maneuver or that, because he wanted some little assassin.

“He carved these markings into my face! I wasn’t even one thousand! I get to live with these pretty little scars and tattoos as a reminder of what I barely managed to escape. He starved me. He never let me eat unless he could tell I’d be on the verge of puking up my own guts. I got forced to sleep outside when it grew hot, when it rained down snow and ice, and Goddess, how I dreamt of running.

“Those things I just mentioned? I’ve not gotten a damned one. After you and Jaron visited, I started having daymares and nightmares that tormented me. I wanted some semblance of a good sleep. Oh, but that all became impossible at that point!”

Elariel grinned so wide that one would think it’d split her face open. But it did not. She’d succeeded in getting her sister talking, long enough for Seranthi to be nearby, hiding and waiting for her call. She raised a pair of bloody, trembling fingers to her mouth and whistled. Almost immediately following that, her hand dropped like a brick to the stab wound.

Seranthi, hearing that call of her master’s sibling, answered. The cat leapt out and bounded towards Elariel without a moment’s thought. Tay froze, afraid to do anything. Elariel had her frostsaber. _Her frostsaber_ , the random gift from Nar all those years ago. Straight from Winterspring, where she had been taught, where she considered her home to be. 

“Now, now. She’s a good girl. Would be a shame to dispose of her because you weren’t being cooperative. We get you back to Father, she lives. If not, she dies. Now please answer. Time’s a’ticking,” Elariel droned. “You’ve half a minute to give me a clear answer. None of your cryptic bullshit in that little journal of yours.”

Tay did nothing, only stood there and forgot all about killing this deranged sibling of hers. She had to make sure her frostsaber lived. Seranthi remained her last connection to home and family, and she could not lose it. Ellemayne she slowly lowered to her side by her trembling hand. Tay tucked it into her pants like a life depended on this, and a life did. 

Carefully, she edged her way closer to the great cat and her sister. She knew the other woman could not see her, but still felt watched when she went to her riding cat. Soon enough, Tay stood only a foot away from her cat and sibling. She leaned a little bit closer, not wanting to be so very close to the woman who tried to kill her, she hissed, “I am not going back there, now give me my frostsaber before I drive this dagger so far into your body that it comes out the other end.” 

Elariel grinned like a demon and pulled a small axe from her belt. It seemed she had come prepared for this foolishly long bickering between siblings. Instead of moving blindly forward to where her sister’s voice rang out, she reached out a hand and felt about for the great cat. Her hand soon found the cat, and she began moving up and down until she found one of the large teeth that protruded from its mouth.

She moved the small axe closer and closer to where her hand rested, wrapped around one of the fangs. Elariel took a slow and experimental swing to make sure she aimed at the correct angle on the weapon’s position and striking. She remained close enough, thankfully for her, and began an actual swing for the bundle of nerves that formed the tooth of the beast. 

When the blade connected, she muttered a spell so quietly, her sister straining her ears to hear would not have heard. Tay screamed as she tried to rush towards Seranthi, but could not move, as the druidess had trapped her in place by means of thorny, unnatural roots. The cat roared as well, and Elariel swung again, having hacked the tooth off with two well-placed blows. She jammed it into the beast’s throat and managed to lodge the fang in the windpipe. 

Blood immediately rushed to where the wound opened, cutting off the flow of air to its lungs. Tay roared and watched as her frostsaber lurched forwards and fell on her side, grabbing at Ellemayne and bending down to slice away the roots. For every root she cut away, though, two more seemed to take it’s place until a strong gale of wind swept the blade from her grasp. 

“Ellemayne!” Tay barked as the blade flew away and landed at the feet of Seranthi. Elariel cackled like a mad fool, picking her way over to where the sound of her sister shouting came. It took her less than a minute to reach her sibling, and she stopped just within what she thought to be just out of arm’s reach from her sister. But, her blindness had fooled her. 

Tay’s arm whipped out like a viper, hand closing around the deranged druidess’ throat. Adrenaline pumped through her veins like jade through the Pandaren Mines; plentifully. Elariel, already grasping at her throat and trying to remove her sister’s hand so she could breathe. The former’s muscles strained as she tried to keep the latter at bay long enough to get the tangling roots to remove themselves from her feet. 

She leaned forward, spitting into the druidess’ ear, “If you even manage to live after I find a way to kill you as slowly as possible, I will find you. And I will kill you again. And again. And. _AGAIN_.” Elariel’s clawing slowly began fading, as did the tightness of the roots around Tay’s ankles. The woman raised her other arm--the one with no hand--and bent it, slamming her elbow into the elder one’s face. 

Tay released her grip, watching her sister tumble down and lay there. She felt the roots recede back into the ground and rushed towards Seranthi. Ellemayne, being right there, she grabbed up in her hand. She now rested on her knees as she rocked slowly back and forth in an effort to stop the tears that threatened to spill. A great sob broke the air as she put the dagger down and gripped the cat’s own tooth lodged in it’s throat.

She pulled, and it did not move. She pulled again and again and again, until it finally came loose. Looking up, she saw the pain flashing in Seranthi’s bright green eyes, and the cat let out a low moan. A tear slipped out from the woman’s eye, and more followed. She held her breath for a moment and released it all into a loud, sorrowful sigh. Hand now shaking, Tay picked up the knife and held it to Seranthi’s now-blood-coated neck. 

“Why?” Tay whimpered. “Why?! Sera, you giant furball…” Her attempts to calm down the cat did not work, as both seemed to know she would have to die. The wound had grown too terrible to heal, and so Ellemayne got pressed to the cat’s once snow white furry neck.

“Goddess… Elune have mercy on you,” she hiccupped as the blade cut through everything that kept Seranthi clinging to life. Seranthi huffed one last time, closing her eyes. Tay took the fang that killed her cat and tucked it into her pants, Ellemayne gripped tightly in her fist.

As the last of the great cat’s life fluids leaked out, Tay stood up and moved to the body of Elariel. Rage filled her and she screamed through the tears and the pain, hoping that would drive it all away. She took deep breaths, trying so hard to stop her crying, and she let that rage fly out of her when she looked at her sister’s corpse. Her foot slammed into the other woman’s side multiple times. That same foot flew into her face, her stomach, her torso, every possible part of her body. And all the while, Tay gasped for air through her sobbing.

She finally stopped, bending down and using her stump to move her sister’s hands over to the blade of Ellemayne. All of that rage pent up inside her now exhausted her, causing her hand to be shaky and her legs to be tired. She got onto her knees and began sawing off one hand weakly. 

“If you ever come back to life like my mum did, you won’t have any hands you fucker,” she mumbled. “I miss Min’da…” More tears threatened to spill as time rolled by and both hands had been separated from the body. Tay only glared at it, placing Ellemayne at her side and throwing each hand into the opposite direction. She struggled to push the body into the rivers to let it be washed away. After all, an elf such as Elariel deserved no proper burial. 

She stood and looked around,grabbing up Ellemayne, then stumbling through the more shallow parts of the water. Her breath stopped as she went, as it always would since she had been on the ship to Vashj’ir. But as of now, she needed to reach someone she knew, someone she trusted.

Someone from her old group, back when she had joined with the Alliance’s Military. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Alrigh’! I see yer tha best tha’ they’ve got ta offer me. Elfies, get warned righ’ now. Aeva here is me second-in-command. She ain’t a girl ta fuck with. Anywho, Aeva, how’s aboot’che introduce e’rryone?” the dwarf barked. The woman he called Aeva, a half human, half quel’dorei, stepped forward and saluted everyone. 

She dressed in the garb of what the humans and dwarves called ‘paladins,’ warriors of the Holy Light. Her hair flowed, long and golden, and she brushed it back behind her ears as if it were hindering her as she addressed the two elves, two _kaldorei_. The kaldorei only nodded once, which the halfling took as a sign to continue.

“Bal a’dash, soldiers. I am Aeva Petrovsky, squire to Ser Gregory Lemfielde of the Argent Dawn. I am here only to have my skills tested, but understand I am an officer of the Grand Alliance Army. The dwarf--” She gestured to the short, stout man with a luxurious red beard, “--is your commander, though. He is Torrolf Redbeard.” Obviously, thought the duo. The two kaldorei glanced into his direction, only the male giving him a slight bow.

Aeva gestured towards a silver-haired young man who stood a few feet to the left of the dwarf, along with another human dressed in dark leathers. This human, though, had ebony black hair with the soft face of a woman. 

“The whitey is my older brother, Ivan. The woman you see next to him is his, erm, girl-friend. Amelia Royce. We’re supposedly getting stuck with you and being sent to aid the Cenarion Circle with Silithus,” Aeva concluded, “So please, try not to die.”

“Ahem, girlie. Yer forgettin’ somethin’ highly important,” Torrolf reminded. “Th’ ranks o’ e’rryone? Startin’ from top ta bottom?” 

Aeva nodded once, then clearing her throat. She pointed at the dwarf and said, “Lieutenant-Commander, close to the rank of Commander. I am ranked at Knight. Ivan at Sergeant Major, hoping to become an officer. Amelia, at Sergeant. And you, my lady kaldorei.” She pointed at the elf with hair the color of pine trees, eyes more amber and golden than her own, and said, “Private.” 

The elf with the pine green hair nodded and said nothing, waiting for some sort of new order to be given. She noted the other kaldorei with her, a bulky man with a trimmed beard and long, mossy colored hair. He saw her staring at him, and nodded once at her. This elf she knew. From the ten-year interlude they’d had after the Third War, the two grew close. Close enough to be… involved romantically.

However, time had separated them and she ended up leaving him so he could pursue his path and her, her own. They’d remained casual acquaintances, rarely meeting up to discuss this or that. But yet here they stood, reunited again. And neither one looked forward to it in the slightest.

‘And, ah, elfies? Intr’duce ‘erselfs?” Torrolf questioned, making the hand motion before moving it up to stroke his great red beard. 

The woman elf took a low, sweeping bow mockingly. Her eyes lingered on the half-elf like the girl was some piece of tender salmon she would devour before casting aside the bones. A cocky, impish grin spread across her face as she kept her eyes upon the other woman, Aeva. 

“Taylande Silverblade, at your service.” 

All directed their eyes now towards the latter of the two kaldorei now. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Nashathel.”


	2. Him

Sighing heavily, he glanced around the small cave he’d taken refuge in. It would be considered more on the cramped side to any other being, were they not a druid or some passing animal hoping to take shelter in the rain. A good thing for the man, since he could simply rest amongst whatever creature nested there that night.

He seated himself, pulling most of his mossy green mane back and half into a ponytail for comfort. The beard covering a good portion of his face, scraggly thought it was, could easily be straightened and so he did, simply running a sharp-nailed hand through the hairs like a comb. 

“Quiet, finally…” he mumbled, though little he spoke. All from a small childhood problem, and even now he rarely said more than three words. Hopefully now, a good few years in the Dream would settle his nerves from all of what had gone on in his past. “Now I may fulfill that d--”

A crashing and cluttering of noises pulled him out of the trancelike state he started to fall into. Growling at whatever had interrupted this, he exited the cave and sped off in the direction of where the sound came from. Using the landscape and his skills to the highest advantage, he shifted into the form of a sleek cat as he ran, falling back into the shadows to spy just who--or what--had caused this disruption. 

It only took some quick moments for him to circle completely around where he resided at the time, a small hut in Darkshore. The enhanced vision from the now catlike eyes stared around to spot the trespassing thing. _It could still be a person,_ he reminded himself, approaching slowly whatever it happened to be. 

As he rounded the small curve of his hut, he readied his claws, facing--

Kaldorei. One lone, defeated kaldorei. 

“Nash…” she whined, sounding defeated. “Nashathel, dammit… get the fuck out here…” While she waited, she limped around, holding her arms close to her chest, hand straying down to a saber tooth tucked into the belt of her pants. He looked up to her eyes, seeing that raw emotion still hidden behind, pushed deep in the back of her mind. He noted the shadows under the eyes, the tattoos that seemed to brand her face, how she even _looked around_ like she were some lost child, searching for a parent. 

How pitiful the once great and cocky Taylande Silverblade looked. With every skin she seemed to shed, this one was, by far, the most memorable now. Nashathel shifted back into his lithe elven form, pulling himself up and making his way towards her.

“Nash--” she choked out, stumbling over to him. A weak, halfhearted smile appeared on her face. Out of habit, she fell back into Darnassian speech. “Nash, you're here, thank Elune…”

“Taylande! Are you okay?” he asked, rushing towards her. Nash surveyed her body, looking her up and down to make sure no harm had befallen her whatsoever. When he reached her wrists, his brow furrowed as he looked at Tay's left one. “Dal quenat sen…” 

Tay lost some of the composure she just regained, wrapping her arms around him as tightly as her exhausted person would allow. Her body needed more rest before she tried to pull him close again. She buried her face into the greyish shirt he wore, letting loose a deep sob. 

Nash scooped her up and carried her inside the small hut, away from any prying eyes and ears. “Tell me,” he mumbled, giving her a meaningful pat on her shoulder as best as he could. He laid her on the bed that had been pushed into a corner of the single room building. The bed, though made for one, had enough room left over for another body to rest in it.

She could only cover her face, shaking her head and throwing her arm over to mask the tears that began to stream down her cheeks. It threatened to come from her mouth as a series of gasps and grunts. It would either be this, or speak of what she had just dealt with. Tay chose the latter.

“I killed her… I _killed_ my _own sister_... Sera-Sera’s fucking dead--” Tay cut herself off before anything else could come out. Already, she felt too overwhelmed with guilt about what just previously occurred. She wasn't quick enough. She could never be quick enough. Not once in a thousand thousand years could she ever be quick enough to save anyone or anything that meant something to her. Never. 

“Tay, calm yourself. Remember that day we finally arrived in Silithus, that Goddess forsaken desert. Distract yourself. You face these later, I--”

“I don’t fucking want to, dammit. I don't want to think of Aeva or Amelia or anyone. I want you…”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The group stood together, all baking under the beating sun of Silithus. For whatever strange reason, it felt hotter here than in Stormwind’s Harbor. The weather patterns of Kalimdor never ceased to amuse the quartet from the eastern continent, where the more pale-skinned of the races seemed to reside. And the, ah, shorter… dwarves… as well. 

Aeva stood in front of the smaller-than-average squadron of soldiers plus a Cenarion Druid. She placed her hands on her hips, a smile moving across her face as she took in a deep breath of the air. Rarely she let show that optimistic side of herself, but now it shone through. She exhaled, “Aah, Silithus.” Aeva spun on her heel, facing the commanding officer. “I don’t like it here.” 

Tay smirked, eyeing the woman from behind. What a shapely body… She grunted and covered her smirk up by reminding herself she would be stuck out here for the next year or so, most likely, with a smelly, booze-loving dwarf and three humans, one of which who wouldn’t even count herself so. Oh, well. Maybe that woman swung both ways. She could only hope so. 

“Torrolf, sir, I want to get the hell out of here.” The half elf stared at the dwarf, waiting for some kind of response.

“Oh, sadly we can’t, little ursus,” Tay started up, swaggering left and right with her eyes now never leaving Aeva. She propped her arm up on her side, elbow sticking out backwards as she hoped to elicit some sort of reaction from the other woman. Aeva, however, gave her no such pleasure as she narrowed her eyes and pulled the dull metal helmet from her head.

She raised a finger up to point at the kaldorei, staring a thousand-yard glare that threatened to kill you if you so much as looked at her the wrong way. “And you, elf, better shut that fucking mouth before you get written up for insubordination.” 

Nashathel leaned over, jamming an elbow into Tay’s side and causing her to switch back to her standard Darnassian. “Asha?” 

“Ana nal asha!” responded the druid in his short few words. Tay made a kaldorei symbol with a more…  rude meaning than an interpreter would dare explain. This pulled out a glare from Nash as he turned away to brood off a few yards away from the main group. 

Torrolf sighed, rolling his eyes as he stared at the two having some kind of lovers’ quarrel. Whatever the deal would be with this new kaldorei woman, he could tell there would already be enough fights within the ranks. Funny, he noted, that the two elves acted completely opposite of each other. One brash and cocky, the other more reserved. He suspected they had something between them, but now began to doubt so as they glared into opposite directions. 

“Hey, Tay, get your ass up with mine or I’ll have you double-time it and force you up to the post without some water. And speak Common, too!” Aeva shouted, marching forward without looking back. She could hear the elven woman’s rhythmic footfalls coming up closer behind her, and not once did she dare slow the pace for her to catch up. No, she would make the private learn her place. Old or not, respect the uppers. 

“So, _Knight_ Petrovsky. Why is it you called my dumb ass up this way, huh?” 

“You are aware that I know you’re attempting to get into my pants?” She stole a brief glanced at Tay, who tried to mimic a look of disbelief and confusion, though Aeva could tell she knew better. 

“What? Knight, you should be more careful on these lands. Any fucking thing could pop up out of--” 

A large beetle, from the hives reported coming from what the druids called the Scarab Wall, surfaced, along with a many other insectoid creatures. Tay sighed, pulling out one of her daggers--Silverblade, she had said to be the blade’s name--and readied it in defense of the allies she’d been forced with for this little trip. 

“--Nowhere. Yeah, could just finish that sentence as soon as I jinx the entire group’s collective ass. Remind me to shut the damn up next time I start saying bullshit like that.” 

Ivan stood near the back as his eyes began to glow. Foreign words, unknown to everyone but himself, were escaping his lips as he mumbled a strange incantation. While he focused his energies into the spell, Tay rushed forward without any warning, dagger raised high with a gleam in her eye. 

Tay threw her entire body forward at the buglike creatures that had dared to attack the group, not giving a damn about what happened to her. She hacked and slashed in wild, erratic behavior that would have signaled a quick death by the Alliance Military’s standards. But not for Tay, strangely enough. She moved around with a sort of deadly grace that signed the end of the line for the bug-things. Silithus’ inhabitants. 

The magus’ spell finished up, a large, intimidating fireball being launched from his hands which spelled doom for not just the creatures, but also the elven woman. She seemed to have no regard for this, dodging quickly under one’s legs and dispatching it easily that way. She only became aware of the ball of fire moving rapidly towards her when she spun around to see.

“Goddess be my shield, for my every breath is yours!” she screeched in a rapid flurry of Darnassian, continuing, “I plead only for one more second of life!” And the fire dissipated, striking against an unseen barrier that now seemed to shimmer in front of Tay as it began to fade. 

Aeva drew the claymore on her back, rushing forth and taking out another one of the insectoids. Even though she did not command the group, all followed suit and drew some kind of strength from her. Torrolf buried the bearded axe on him deep into the head of one, while Royce, Ivan’s lover, teamed up on one with the elven woman. Nash, however, was busy finishing one that tried sneaking away. 

Soon as everyone chose the bugs they were set on keeping out of the fight permanently, they all looked to Aeva, awaiting her next orders. All this she considered a testing of her abilities, measured down to each and every little movement of the eyes. 

“Ama noral’arkhana…” Aeva breathed. Something inside her fluttered like a bird just learning how to fly, finally, after being in a cage for so very long. “Oh, um. Well. Let’s, ah, just head towards the Cenarion post, yes? Yes, let’s do that.” She beckoned for them all to follow, keeping her head turned towards their destination as everyone shared strange glances with one another. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Nash held Tay close, wishing for the awful memories to flood through and get over with. Comforting her, he’d already spoken more than he would have dared in front of them. He glanced down at her, curled up with her head resting on his lap as she stared off into nothing. 

“They’ve stopped…” she mumbled, sounding half asleep with a voice full of raw emotion. “The whispers. After… A-I killed her, they just… quit. But Goddess, I hate myself. I’m no better than my fucking uncle.” She took in a single ragged breath, the guilt almost overwhelming herself once more until Nash started up. 

“Don’t say that,” Nash warned, brow furrowing. He began adjusting himself to where he could lay his full length across the bed. Tay pulled herself on top of him, resting an ear just over his left chest. 

“Damn you, Nash. You never let me brood,” she chuckled weakly, leaning up and laying a gentle kiss on his lips. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Outside, Nar sat in a tree, Bladestream not too far of a ways’ off. She spied her little sister go off into the hut with, she presumed, someone from her past. Nar sighed, dropping down from the tree and jogging off towards her hippogryph. 

“Hey, Serrar. Speak some semblance of Darnassian this time, would you? You think we should maybe find Landrelia or Kyena and inform them of Tay at all? Or just an owl?” 

The beast stretched its wings and ruffled its feathers, looking over at the shorter-than-average elven woman. “Perhaps. Go to Kyena. She will know what to do.” Nar grinned, striding over and patting Bladestream on the head and laying out a fish for him as a quick snack before they set off to find Tay’s aunt. 

“That boy better not hurt my little sister…” Nar growled, clicking her tongue for Bladestream to set off.


	3. Love

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Valentine's Day, everyone <3

Tay stared at Nash, wishing just only for a moment she hadn't come running to him in the first place. Something inside her said she did the right thing, the normal thing, another in her place would have done. But she never did this, running to somebody for some little bit of empathy and comfort after a gruesome act.

“Why are you even bothering to help me?”

“So you live.”

“Yeah, because you need me to live a shitty life with you. In case you don't remember, I fucked you when I was with another. And I fucked Ivan’s sweet little thing when I should have been fucking you. Then I went and alternated between you and Aeva for our entire. Military. History. Goddess, what the hell is wrong with you!”

“O surfas ana.”

Tay screamed at him, storming forward and striking his jaw. She couldn't do anything to him, she knew, but the next best thing is to simply try. Just try, hit something you know won't be affected, and let out all that pent-up anger and hate. 

Being so close to him now, she paused and looked up, noting Nash’s handsome features compared to her more plain, stress-aged ones. The smoothness of his skin and the neatness of his beard, even the half-ponytail his hair had been pulled into. Damn Nashathel for being so very handsome! 

_Why are you thinking about this?!_ she thought, before yelping and jumping backwards.

It had been so long since her thoughts were her own. It scared her at first. The sudden newness of being able to think, to remember this or that without some evil thing nagging at the back of her mind, steering her thoughts this way or that. 

Nash, startled, moved forward and grasped her shoulders to make sure she would be okay. Funny. They both were trained healers and menders, yet only one actually practiced it. Still, he felt it to be his job to make sure people would remain unharmed and injured. No wonder his mother called him a good child. 

“Please...  Calm yourself,” he begged quietly. 

Tay just stared, amazed by her own actions. Her own thoughts, the incessant screaming and eyeballing an ex-lover--one she just pressed her lips to again. Even after their history. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

At camp, all proved to be quiet. Tay got to sit on her ass all day long, as nothing interesting had popped up. She’d fallen asleep at some point as well, waking up in the middle of the night while everyone but herself and the druid slept. She sat up and scanned the surrounding area, seeing nothing but desert. 

“Urgh, quit falling asleep when it’s a boring day… you have bullshit to do tomorrow,” she scolded herself. Tay trudged outside, holding the hilt of Silverblade loosely. A force of habit, since her father had raised her to be like that no matter what. 

“You won’t be busy at all…” hissed a voice. It sounded familiar, yet foreign, but her blade immediately got flipped around to slit the throat of whoever decided to sneak up on a trained would-have-been assassin. Most likely a pawn to be used in her father’s great plot to kill Tyrande Whisperwind so he could assume the role as leader by manipulating everyone into crowning him. 

She jabbed a fist into one of the attacker’s kidneys, stunning him momentarily as the blade got raised to this mysterious asshole’s throat. Their breathing immediately sped up, terrified at the fact that a quick movement of the woman’s wrist was now the only thing between their life or death. 

“If you are one of those filthy hired assassins sent by my father, shove it up your ass!” Tay shrieked, alerting everyone within her unit to the danger and waking them up. The blade slid across their throat, ending the life of a foolish person who thought to kill an elf surrounded by people. 

Torrolf waddled out from his camp, sighing as he barely made out the corpse lying in front of him and everyone else in the immediate vicinity. “E’rryone, we gotta increase th’ secur’ty of th’ base. Ivan’s up first, g’night!” 

“Dammit!” Ivan grumbled.

Tay narrowed her eyes, taking the body out far enough so they wouldn’t smell the rotting stench of it later on. She dragged her feet on the way back to her small tent, mumbling to herself. “Jaron, dear brother… you always seemed a bit dull. But now I get to look over my shoulder… Too tired to deal with you and the commanding dwarf’s strange bull…”

~~~~~

The Gong had rung, finally, throughout that accursed desert.. Adrenaline coursed through everyone’s veins. It rushed through their systems, filling some with dread and others with excitement. Not even the lowliest soldier or adventurer went into this battle without any semblance of this golden feeling pumping into their hearts. Oh, how long it had been that the Cenarion Circle waited for someone to just _ring_ that damned Gong! 

Tay bounced around on the tips of her toes, waiting for Torrolf to issue the signal to their group that the front lines were ready to charge. They needed to hurry, to storm that damned bug-city. Ahn-something, she had heard it been called. People in the higher-ups whispered about dealing with the Temple later on. To hell with it! Death to every single bug in that filthy city! Those insects walked on kaldorei territory! 

Finally, finally, finally. The signal. Lieutenant Commander Redbeard finally signaled it, as he got positioned up near the front with orders from another to leave his detachment near the back of the force. It didn’t matter, though. She got to fight! She got to feel her blood boiling again at the thought of being in another life-or-death situation. 

The forces charged. Already, her ears picked up that sickening crunching and the screams of those that lost their lives almost instantly in this battle. Their corpses got left behind. This place would most likely be their grave. Every single person who died today would be avenged by some close friend in their unit.

Tay shoved herself through the clamoring forces trying to land a hit on a bug creature in front of them. She’d already lost sight of Aeva, whom she had hoped to keep an eye on throughout this entire thing. Why wouldn’t she, if she were already closer than ever at getting into the half elf’s pants? 

“VICTORY TO THE ALLIANCE!” shouted a heavily accented dwarven voice. Tay looked over, wondering if Torrolf had fallen back in the group to inspire and raise the morale of the soldiers. “Hurry yer ass up, elfie! Ye’d be missin’ out on th’ action from back ‘ere. I thought’chee liked a good ol’ fight!” 

Taking that as a challenge, the elf shoved through and readied Silverblade. That thing measured almost as long as the standard issue shortsword did, slicing into whatever filthy exoskeletoned shit dared get near her. Tay began to count just how many she killed, not daring to use Elune’s Fire and burn away the organic material. Who knew if these things would reek like that “stink-bug” she stepped on when she’d enlisted for the military?

Time had no meaning right now, and eventually someone had to call for a halt and establish a sort of checkpoint to make sure nothing else followed. No stopping now though. Fighting every single thing that wasn’t an allied soldier played the most important role in the rushing through the city. She’d lost track of just how many of the bugs she ended while they pushed on through the mounds and mounds of whatever the hell these things called themselves. 

“Tay! Ilisar! Elun’al. Alah ash elend!” Probably Nash, screaming at her to fill a dreaded creature with Elune’s Fire. She spun, trusting him, meeting one of the Silithid (as the commanders had begun to call them) and jumped out of the way. It sent her sprawling in the sandy flooring of the city, nearly causing her to collide with one of the walls nearby. 

Awareness of her surroundings and everyone else suddenly kicked into her system. Close by stood a massive stairway that most likely led somewhere important to the bugs. She pushed herself up from the ground, glancing down at her now-dirty apparel. 

_Ugh, I need to change later,_ she thought. 

She half stumbled and half ran back towards the insect that had the balls to sneak up on her. With a cry of anger, “ Zin na’o,” Tay buried the blade deep into whatever doubled as a head to the Silithid. With a sickening and gut-wrenching noise, the insectoid fell back into the sand. It couldn’t be more dead at this point, and so she ripped the dagger from its top. 

“Rest! We have pushed on long and far, though the ones who lost themselves in the heat of this--” The elven woman felt eyes upon her, heat rising to her face. “--Wouldn’t really know. Within only some moments, we march on their leader! Death to the Silithid! Glory to the Alliance!”

“Oh, how inspiring,” Tay sarcastically mumbled, wiping the blade off on the bottom of the robes she wore. Thankfully she had packed in another load of clothing. 

The elven woman grunted and planted herself down where she sat, near the edge of the group once more. She inspected the edges of Silverblade now, making sure it still retained the sharpness on it that it had when she first strode through the gates of this accursed city. Why did they have to uncover a fucking bug land of death and sand?

“Oi, Cocky Bastard! Why are you sitting away from everyone else, huh? You could be in there helping the wounded idiots who still want to finish this thing up. We’ve been in here for Light knows how long, yet people still can’t grasp the idea of ‘If you’re wounded badly then go rest up,’ huh?” Aeva called over, voice calming down from the hollering sternness she’d started it with. 

Tay smirked, shrugging and stretching as she pulled herself onto her feet. “I don’t know. Maybe I felt like planning out another filthy ass line to use on some ravishing half elf I spotted swinging a claymore around. Damn, did she look like something!” She swaggered over to the other woman, leaning in closer. “I sincerely do hope she’s flexible.”

Aeva raised an eyebrow, a grin settling on her lips. “Do you now? You should probably know, Silverblade--”

“ON YOUR FEET! WE HAVE SILITHID TO FELL!” 

The paladin immediately straightened up, putting on her stern face. She spun on her heel and marched off to the main host like some trained dog who heard this same call her entire life. Aeva didn’t bother to look back and see if the private followed her or not. The claymore on her back got pulled and readied to be put into use once more.

Tay growled, frustrated. Her grip on Silverblade tightened and her swagger turned into a quick walking pace. A glare replaced her previous expression as she summoned up her anger in hopes to get the adrenaline pumping again. 

Soldiers fell back into order as they all marched up these steep steps to the domain of whatever foul creature awaited them up top. A group of dwarves nearby snickered and mumbled a few words of some traditional song they sand back in their homeland. Annoying. Tay hoped they would shut it up before she heard them finish it through. 

Upon reaching the top, murmurs spread throughout the host of soldiers and druids. She didn’t understand why, until she looked to her right. 

“I swear if I said the wrong fucking thing again…” 

A colossal, titanic looking thing the dwarves had called a keeper. They had to fight this. Tay looked around for the half elven woman, just wishing she could be near someone she tolerated while this went on. Nashathel would not do. They had a… rough history, and she needed a fresh start.

Someone screamed, drawing her back to the heat of the moment. Silverblade immediately came up as she flipped it around, holding it like anyone trained to be a pet who slit throats for food. How she wanted to rid herself of that aspect of her. It could only remind her of the pain that fucking asshole had put her through. 

One soldier engaged this… thing. If it even had a name. She dared not describe it, aside from the fact that it towered about as high as the walls blocking them in. It bent over, swiping the massive hand it used to fight. One man went flying off, and would have surely died had it not been for two mages working in tandem.

A gear in their heads switched over to saving someone rather than flinging violent spell after violent spell. Tay watched them with wonder when she got the chance to, nearly screaming when one conjured up a large ball of fire, sending it flying towards the seemingly unscarred behemoth. The raw power of the mages amazed her, how they kept control of their abilities and still managed to avoid too much injury. Like a beautiful, chaotic mess. 

Before she could even turn back to avoid being killed, a large shape barreled her out of the way. Looking up and clearing dust from her now watery eyes, she just barely made out who had shoved her out of the way of, most likely, a painful death. “Next time, Silverblade, pay attention to the fight. Besides, Redbeard brought some signature booze with him for celebrating later!”

The paladin shoved herself off the large elf, rushing back into the fray to hack away at the unscarred goliath. Tay, angered now at how filthy her robes got, bolted towards the danger and began to help the assault. 

So much time seemed to pass before finally, the giant let out a low groan, falling to its knees. Everyone began to scatter, now fearing they would be crushed under a toppled tower of a… thing. Screams and cries of fear escaped every other man and woman that stayed nearby. Some on the fringes of the host collapsed from the exhaustion of beating relentlessly on the behemoth. 

~~~~~

Later that night, laughter and drunken slurs of victory could be heard throughout the night. From the nearby encampment, from the Cenarion outpost, but mostly from the tents set up that marked Torrolf’s oddball group. He’d already drank Royce under the table, cackling as Ivan sighed and carried her to their shared tent. 

Tay laughed at the sight, filling up a mug with the strangely enchanting and bitter taste of the dwarven brew. She raised it in a silent toast with Torrolf, bringing it up to her lips and chugging as much as she could handle before coughing and spurting. 

“Sir, Torrolf, how the hell did you make this? It’s amazing but it’s… it’s uh, crap. I forgot what to say,” she started before slurring her words off into a cackle. She’d admit to getting drunk later. But who cared at the moment? They killed a behemoth, finally quit their constant bickering after Goddess knows how long of being in this filthy desert, and now got to drink ‘til they passed out. 

Tay went back to the cask, dumping more into the half empty cup she held, taking it back to her smallish drape that she called a tent. After entering, she set the mug down and threw off her robe, exposing bare and bruised skin underneath. The pants went next, being replaced with shoddy brown-grey breeches that hung loose around her. The overshirt she had once belonged to Nashathel, which he’d given to her after an… interesting night. 

“Tay… hopefully I’m not intruding but Redbeard said you went back here with a mug,” Aeva sighed through a few hiccups. She’d already changed into more suitable off-duty clothing for the night, looking up to find the elf half-dressed with a shirt partially slung over her. Tay quickly pulled the shirt all the way down, striding over in an ale-induced haze. 

“Not at all, what is it?” she asked in as suave a tone as she could manage. “I had to come back here to get out of shitty clothes and into better ones.” Tay strode forward more, a cocky, somewhat predatory grin spread across her lips. 

“Oh, understandable. I’m not complaining, am I? But do tell me m-more on that half elf you kept eyeballing while we ran through that dirty place,” Aeva flirted, clearly a bit tipsy from the commanding officer’s brew. 

“Why should I when I get to look at a masterpiece in front of me? Although, if you insist. I’m hoping she’s flexible because I want to take her tonight.” Tay grinned a bit wider, starting up, “I like when the booze talks for me, and dammit does it taste good!” She moved back, bending down to scoop up the mug sitting nearby, and taking a large swig of it to enhance the effect it was having on her.

Outside, Torrolf could be heard mumbling something as he made some rounds before he would be collapsing into a drunken sleep. Tay shrugged, placing one hand on Aeva’s hip and sliding it down. This drew heat to the half elf’s face, along with a tipsy grin. “I am most definitely drunk off this shit, Knight. And I’m bedding you, ehm, prob-probably.” 

“Then do it!” Aeva hissed, shoving Tay’s hand farther down south than originally intended. 

“Goddess, when was the last time you got any sort of pleasure, Petrovsky?” Tay monotoned, squinting confusedly at Aeva.

Aeva shut the priestess up by pulling her into a sudden, alcohol-induced kiss. 

Outside, Torrolf grumbled and began to call for his second-in-command, though she did nothing but ignore the dwarf. “Aeva, girlie, I-I need’je to do som’thin’ tomorrow, aye?” he asked, shoving open the flap to Tay’s small shelter. 

His eyes widened as both women froze, Tay looking at her commander with eyes full of fear. Torrolf spun on his heel, letting the flap fall back into place as he walked away.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

She found herself staring at another person from her past, one she’d hurt so badly before. Yet he still insisted on helping her. Nash always needed to help people. No wonder they were always half-late to something they should have been at an hour or more ago, all because he had to help something on the way. And yet everyone would think they were, ah, busy. 

“Are you alright?” he asked, eyebrows furrowing together. Nash still had his hands on her, even though she had made no motion to tell him to get off of her. 

“Yeah, I’m just… do you have any sort of alcohol in here?” Tay asked, looking around and hoping some kind of beverage that gave her a buzz would get rid of the tense feeling hanging between them. She peeled herself from his grip reluctantly, taking two short paces away to look around before returning her gaze to Nash. He motioned for her to look under the small padded bench across from the bed. Getting on her hands and knees, she scanned underneath it, finding a small bottle of fruity wine, half empty. 

She sighed, pulling off the top of it (with Nash’s help) and taking a swig. Nash closed the top, as she set it back on the floor within easy reach of her. Tay shook her head swiftly, trying to recall the last time she’d had any sort of alcohol that wasn’t strong and bitter dwarven ale. Needless to say, her memory failed her as she picked up the bottle again and took three more drinks of it. 

“I’ll get you another bottle later--” She cut herself off, falling into a coughing fit after the wine left its taste in the back of her mouth. Nash rushed over, guiding her to sit back down on the bed. Without saying a word, the fit subsided as she leaned her head on his shoulder. “Dammit, I shouldn’t drink so much fucking ale.”

“You’re right, for once,” Nash joked. 

Tay snorted, the ghost of a smile on her face. “Shut up... “ She laughed after that, something inside her stirring and flipping her stomach over and over. “I missed this.” 

Nash pulled her on top of him, allowing her to adjust how she seated herself on his lap. It didn't take long for her to do so as she wrapped her arms around him in an embracing hug. Though, it hadn't been the hug he expected, even with her history of bedding many women. Her head she’d positioned just right, mouth up against his ear. 

“Surfas’o shal, Nash.” 

Tay pulled back, looking at the druid to make sure he understood. Something in his eyes told her that he knew, and his hands made their way to the shirt that stuck to her skin. Slowly, he peeled it off as his lips got distracted. The fruity taste in her mouth seemed to add a tingling to his own. As the shirt came off he paused, staring and waiting for some kind of confirmation. 

“Like before?” he asked, casting aside the top half of her clothing. She shook her head, drawing him back in close while her hand worked at letting loose his trousers. The leather jerkin Nash had thrown around his body already came off, along with most other articles of clothing. The two cast aside all of the restrictions, now unhindered. 

Nash gently pushed her onto the bed, easing her down as to not accidentally cause an ache to suddenly come out of nowhere. Though, he felt he would later be causing an ache or two. He reached his hand down, stroking himself gently before moving on to pleasure his returned lover. How nice it felt to have her back, to feel every inch of her once more. Nothing from the past mattered at this moment. 

He stopped just before he entered her body, looking up to make sure she did this willingly. Something inside him said to not do this, but instinct told him otherwise. Taking in every feature of his lover, Nash inserted a digit inside to test the waters, or so to speak. As he did so, he took note of how her body moved and the quiet gasp she let out. 

“Please,” she breathed, Nash’s signal to continue. “You know we’ve done it before and yet you still wait.” Tay’s arms went up over her head to restrain from making it rough, quick, like in the past. She didn't need that now, not yet. Something calming would do the trick for her, as it most likely could be the only calming thing she might have in quite a time.

“I know,” Nash grunted, working the finger in and out, slowly, before adding another one. He could hear her breathing picking up pace as he repeated this once more, waiting for any more of a reaction he could weasel out of her. The pace he kept, sometimes slowing down just to frustrate her. Soon enough, he removed each digit. 

“Why… why’d you stop?” she whined, looking up at him curiously. He motioned for her to roll onto her other side, which she did, propping herself on her knees. Nash spread her legs apart some more, running a hand up her inner thigh. “Go fuck yourself, hn?”

“I'm busy, though,” he remarked with a smirk, once again moving his member closer to where he’d previously been. He heard a great sigh of relief as he edged in gently, leaning forward and holding a hand over her mouth. He could feel the smile of pleasure crossing her face, the only real satisfaction he required right now.

One arm just barely keeping her up, she used the other one to force his head down onto her neck. She then pried his hand from her mouth groaning through her teeth. “Remember when I told you to bite me, Nash?” she barely managed. “Because I--Goddess, Nash!” Just as she finished saying his name, his teeth were clamped down onto her neck, hand muffling her heavy breaths. 

Nash didn't hold back much more, moving faster and faster while she rocked back and forth onto him. His free hand wandered down across her torso, gripping tightly on her body as if he refused to let her go. He felt so… possessive.

Finally, she released as he kept his movements for her to ride through the wave. As soon as she had finished, Nash kept going until he, too, had wrapped up the time they enjoyed together, removing himself from her body.

“I feel like you left a mark on that part of my neck,” Tay huffed weakly, rolling over and wrapping her arms around his neck. “Get down here so I can enjoy you more, you ass.”

Nash smiled and did as she asked, laying himself next to her on the bed. “Satisfied, Highness?” he chuckled.

“Don't call me that,” Tay mumbled with a grin on her lips. “But yes, I am, surfal.”


	4. Lunar Festival

After spending a few days in Nash’s home, Tay stumbled outside in need of fresher air. Her head spun like a top. She could barely get a grip on her own surroundings, most likely from the bottle of wine she chugged down in an attempt to get drunk. Though Nash warned her against it, she did so anyways. What a foolish choice. She’d need to quit that at some point, but decided today would not be the day. 

“Dammit, I have shit to take care of in Stormwind. I'm long past due for receiving orders,” she groaned, staring hungrily at the bottle still in her hand. She growled, leaning on the side of a tree. Anger suddenly surged through her. Tay chucked the bottle in front of her as far as she could, watching it spin through the air as she turned around. Stupid damned military, always sending her to the most awful places for this reason or that. 

“Don't leave,” Nash pleaded. He strolled up to his lover, hoping she’d be in a better mood than the previous night. Nash wrapped his arms around her in a hug from behind and felt the heavy, angry breaths enter and leave her body. 

“I won't be gone for long. I'm getting a mage to make a portal. Not riding on another Goddess-damned boat again, not after Royce got killed on our way to Vashj’ir…”

“Don't. Leave.” 

“Too bad. Besides, I owe you for that bottle of wine, Nash.” 

“The bite marks--”

“Will fade. I'm not waiting any longer. And if your sister stops by, you can explain what we did the past couple of nights. You can come or stay, and I’d rather you stay so I can find you something nice. Goddess knows you can't have more than one shirt.”

Nash sighed. He placed a gentle kiss on her cheek before backing off. She offered him a sweet smile, placing her lips on his as long as she could until she had to leave him. Again… Like she left everyone, always at some point or another. Like Aeva; she left the woman in shambles after Northrend. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The reek of the freshly cleaned fish wafted up into the tavern situated right by the docks, drowned out only by the fire burning inside at all times. Off-duty guards stationed at the Alliance port wandered into it, sometimes coming out hours later and tripping over their own feet. One such thing just happened, though instead of two buddies laughing it was two quiet women, disheveled and tired-eyed. 

“No. It’s just one night. I needed a fix,” the kaldorei growled, being careful to not mention the woman she currently took up with. This would possibly have sent the other woman into a fit of anger, for the kaldorei didn’t seem to grasp the concept of loyalty to only one person. A glare spread across her face as she stared up at the other woman, a draenei. 

“Tay, you should understand--”

“Ishetii,” she hissed, getting more aggressive, “Don’t even try to change up what I’m saying. I said I needed a fix. It’s a dry spell. Now if you’ll excuse me, there’s a unit out there missing their damned Master Sergeant.” At least the one-nighter remembered her name. The draenei had heard that hardly ever happened. 

Tay glanced at the knife on her belt, wrapping a hand around it and striding off towards the gates leading out of the port. She mumbled to herself various things about the tavern, the unit sitting out in one of the coldest places on Azeroth when she’d been sent in to get some salted rations. Of course, she decided to spend a night of passion with some random woman in the tavern instead of actually getting what she’d been sent in for. 

Quickly, she made a stop off at the docks, searching the piles for salted beef and salmon. It took some few minutes of digging with her almost getting caught. After finding them, she left a sack of coins where the cargo had been, so technically she had paid for the goods needed. While she carefully laid the crate-top back, Tay spotted a rather shady-looking fellow with dwarven ale-holding skins. 

She strode over to where the “merchant” sold his wares, putting on a cold and proud look to mask her true suspicions about him. The elf knew this fellow would see her approaching, so she reached into the folds of her robe where a second blade--Ellemayne--lay hidden. Pulling Silverblade would be too much of a challenge in the middle of a public place. Especially when there were enough onlookers to run for the guards within two seconds. 

The merchant man, startled at the elven woman approaching him, immediately threw on a smile, opening his arms wide in a gesture of welcome. 

Tay, having none of this, eyed him before she said anything. “This better be beer or ale, not some fruity wines imported from whatever obscure human nation in the mountains of Hillsbrad.” She held out a coin of gold, the merchant’s eyes going wide. Greedy little man. He pushed forward five skins of the stuff.

“Most definitely, my lady elf, this is that fine ale from Ironforge!” he quickly stated, giving a nervous laugh. “Your business is appreciated!” 

She huffed, moving back to the gates where she originally intended to go, where that horse-thing waited. Why the Alliance made her use the thing remained unknown to her, so she left it, setting off at a brisk pace. She’ll ride it only if she must, and hopefully that would be never. Seranthi could have eaten that thing if she wanted. Perhaps that’s why they didn’t let her bring her cat, because the big girl might have eaten--No, Sera had been trained too well.

For now she had to cover up the teeth marks left all over her body by the draenei woman, Ishetii. Aeva could never find out, not unless she wreck the poor woman. Tay probably would at some point, though. She had that gut feeling. But why she always attracted the biters, she’d not understand. Ever. 

~~~~~

“Ya spent almost HALF our designated coin on beer? And fish?!” Torrolf cried. “I said beef! Pork! Not the stinkin’ fish from the harbor!” 

“With all due respect, Commander, the elves here eat more fish than anything. Nashathel won’t eat things that come from human lands, sir. As for the beer, your sorry ass drinks this more than anyone else!”

“INSUBORDINATION! I recommended your rank ta be raised up out o’ the amazin’ skill ya displayed from that dead planet and from all that crap with the Silithid! Yer filthy beer-lovin’ problem’s been gitt’n in the way o’ our missions, knife-ears!” Torrolf screamed back. 

Bristling with fury, Tay forced a curt smile, giving her commanding officer a stiff bow and hissing through gritted teeth, “By your leave, sir.” The dwarf grunted, yanking the rations from her hands and storming off to where he’d pitched his tiny tent. She glared back at him, marching to seat herself by the half elf she’d become so acquaintanced with. That, however, might end sooner than most expected.

Aeva sighed, sitting uncomfortably by herself and waiting for the screaming match between two of her squadmates to end. When Tay came over and planted herself next to the other woman, she sat and watched Tay twisted off the cap of the skin, downing it within a couple of gulps. Ever since that night after storming through Ahn’Qiraj, her drinking slowly increased to where she had grown to become an angry drinker. 

“I don’t care what that dwarf says, but when the Lunar Festival rolls ‘round, I’m going. I haven’t been to one yet. Plus, all these death knights put me on edge,” Tay spat, casting away the skin that had been drained so quickly. When did Aeva’s lover get so warped from whom she originally introduced herself as? It seemed now like the kaldorei had become someone else… 

“Tay, surfal, please calm yourself. I promise you I’ll get leave for us to go to the celebration, so you can have fun,” Aeva reassured, resting her head on Tay’s shoulder. Aeva twisted the golden band around her right ring finger, worrying for her love. She wrapped her arms around the kaldorei in a loving embrace, unknowing of the affair that took place between her love and another woman. 

Guilt rose in the kaldorei’s chest, though she quickly suppressed it. She’d only liked Aeva for her looks at first, but now she felt it fading and being replaced by so many other emotions full of confusion and loss. That draenei she couldn’t get out of her head. She just couldn’t find a way to rid her thoughts of the woman. 

The Lunar Festival stood some months away, but guilt continued to wrack her. Aeva wanted to do this, and here she’d just been shit to her and everyone else. Even Ivan, whom she got along well with. She sat there for that night, not bothering to sleep because she knew she’d be wracked with nightmares, instead sitting out on that same spot and drank the skins she’d bought. All for herself. 

~~~~~

Moonlight shone through the high branches of the trees that seemed to blanket the glade, and revelers danced around laughing and cheering. The festival went on around the couple, everyone minding their own business in their own circle of friends, sometimes wandering to get to know someone else. Some, however, mistook the meaning of “getting to know someone”. 

Tay shuddered at the peoples who got too close to strangers for comfort , squeezing Aeva’s hand to push out memories of that night in Valiance Tavern. How she regretted it. She remembered how drunk she’d gotten those two nights, to where she had no sleep. Not even a lick of it after Ishetii had rested. None after the skins she drowned herself in. 

Even still, she kept depriving herself of sleep. Less and less of it every night, and more often than not she got none at all. It took so much out of Aeva, though, and that became the only reason she even bothered anymore. She thought of the ring around Aeva’s finger, of that night they’d been stuck patrolling the perimeter in Zangarmarsh. When she awkwardly pulled out the ring and asked that question of marriage. 

“Tay! Aeva! I didn’t realize you’d be here!” Ivan ran forward, laughing and smiling with Royce right on his heels. The couple had their arms interlocked and only untangled to give hugs and friendly greetings. 

“Amelia, Ivan’s been treating you good, right?” Aeva asked, inspecting her soon to be sister-in-law. Their wedding had been planned for some time after they’d returned from killing the demon hybrid sitting atop the Black Temple in Outlands. 

Royce giggled, adorned in one of the traditional dresses worn during the festivities. Ivan still covered himself in the Kirin Tor robes, reluctant to replace them with other clothings. 

“Of course he has, dear sister! You should know that better than anyone. This boy was raised _right_!” She bit her lip and winked, intertwining her fingers with the ones of her beloved. “Oh, but what of you two? I heard from Ivan you’re going to--!

“As a matter of fact, I proposed to her in Outlands. Remember, surfal?” Aeva asked, smiling. 

Tay grinned back, wearing that facade on her face and wishing she hadn’t done what she’d done that night. She would wreck Aeva. She would wreck the paladin and all of her hopes, shattering herself and building walls around her heart in the process. “Yes, in fact. You did. It was odd, but I don’t regret anything at all, surfal. Although, I have to meet someone. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be too long.” 

_Liar,_ went that voice in the very back parts of her mind.

Aeva gave her lover a quick peck on the cheek as she bent down. She watched the towering elf walk off towards the woods. Ivan chuckled, offering to lead her to where something kept going on. “I am glad, little sister, you’ve someone. If mum doesn’t approve, she can deal with it, yes?” Aeva nodded as she went off with her brother, thoughts of Tay swirling through her mind.

~~~~~

“Surfal? Where’re you at? I thought you said you wouldn’t be--” Aeva stopped in her tracks, and could only stare. 

The kaldorei woman, her intended, her surfal, her lovely priestess, was with someone else. The man’s trousers were down at his ankles, Tay’s robe hiked up just below her waist. The man, presumably a--

Nashathel. He had his hand over her mouth so she couldn’t scream or make any noise whatsoever. Aeva almost charged in, but soon saw Tay’s facial expression. She liked it. Trailing her eyes down, Aeva saw on her lover’s--no, ex-lover’s--legs bite marks and darker spots from where his mouth had carved a path on Tay’s body. 

The two finished up their business, Tay wearing an intoxicated look on her face as she pulled the robe and undergarments back to their places. Nashathel pulled his trousers back into place, securing a belt around his waist. They exchanged looks as they did so, giving the impression this was more than just a “friends with benefits” arrangement.

Aeva, saying nothing, stormed off. Everything hurt her as she distanced herself from the ex-fiancée she thought had loved her. This could explain how distracted her love had seemed earlier in the night. Tay _wanted_ to get away, to hook up with another person instead of being loyal. Like she should have been in the first place. 

Why had Aeva even let that damned kaldorei seep into her mind, her heart? What had she hoped to gain from the scandalous affair, as her mother would call it? Did she even love, the kaldorei? Damn her. Damn her damn her damn her. Aeva silently prayed a thousand hells unleash itself upon Tay, would take all of her happiness and cast it out the window and into a fire to burn away. 

Tay had no heart.

Aeva just lost hers. 

~~~~~

Only a year or so after the whole Naxxrammas business got cleaned up, just two months after defeating the Lich King, units got sent out to control the remaining Scourge in the land. Nobody knew where Bolvar went, that brave Alliance hero who seemed to make the Wrathgate a less terrifying thing. Soldiers got to rest, finally, after so many snow, undead filled days and nights in that Goddess-forsaken land. 

Tay sat in a bar, celebrating to herself the fall of another stupid threat that could have been taken care of so easily. If, of course, the legendary Tor’landa and Lan’reli still roamed the damned world. Another Lunar Festival had passed, just a couple of days earlier. Bitterness and constant nagging guilt tormented her for that awful thing she had done. 

Aeva gave her the cold shoulder, spoke to her only when needed. Nash, after that night, had began to start up his passes and flirting with her. He left her after Torrolf nearly lost his life in Icecrown Citadel. Poor dwarf just started tagging along with her after things went right. His wife, in Ironforge, had left him for some richer dwarven man hellbent on his kid being a paladin. 

So much bullshit, all in so little time. Why now be the era of constant threats the strange duo hadn’t a clue, but it took their joys from them. They had only the beer now. 

“Torrolf, sir. D’you think I fucked it up?” she asked from out of the blue. 

“Oh, uh… I dunnae, knife-ears. I lost m’wife and she took m’boy with ‘er. Ye probably just acted on some instinct. Drink yer ale now. Git drunk and drown yer sorrows. That’s what we do back home. No’ that I got one,” Torrolf grunted, raising the flagon to his mustachioed mouth and guzzling it down. He looked like an animal, the only thing differentiating him from it being the gradual loss of his dwarven accent. 

“Hm… Fuck ‘em, then, yeah?” she chuckled weakly, sipping some more of the strong drink. The dwarf nodded, hailing a bartender for another two flagons. “Good point. More shit’ll help me handle that. They don’t need me, I don’t need them! Hell, do I want to get my hands on Royce though…”

Torrolf coughed, sputtering and choking on his ale. “Y’what?!” His eyes widened. He slammed down the mug and raised a finger to lecture her. “You ruin yer good almost-weddingness with Petrovsky, git caught with another woman by th’ Treehugger, and I’ve walked in on ye with ‘em all Light-knows-how-many-times, and now ye wanna sex up Ivan’s soon-ta-be? Th’ hell’s wrong wit’che, Silverblade?” The dwarf sighed, shaking his head and drinking more to quell the growing anger.

She shrugged, draining the cup as she had bothered to listen to him rant. “I think that’s a later story. Now try drinking me under the damned table again. It’s a lot more fun to get drunk that way.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Nash grunted something as he swept Tay off her feet since she kept faltering in her step. “You’re not going,” he stated, not bothering to give her a reason why. Tay knew exactly why he wouldn’t be letting her leave, not until the alcohol got out of her system. Still, something in him said he was keeping her prisoner in his home. But he did it so she could be safe. She told him in the past that she’d not be safe ‘til all her father’s bastards were dead and gone. 

“Hey! I can walk, damned Treefucker!” she hissed. Tay began squirming and trying to get out of his grip. She never remembered Nash being stronger since the last time she’d seen him. 

“Been listening to my sister, I see.” 

“Where is she, anyways? And why are we the only two who get you to speak more than three or four words?” 

“She needs to visit. And it’s because I--”

“Gotcha, you giant. Now put me down.”

“No.” 

“Fine. I guess I’ll stay another week or so. If it’s any longer something’s wrong with me.” 

She heard Nash let out a quiet ‘mhm’ and listened to him laugh--Well, felt the vibrations from his chest, anyways. Maybe, just maybe, she could settle down and have a life here. Away from everyone else and everything else. That would be good for her. Nash was a good man. But--

_No,_ she thought, _Nash deserves better than me._

He leaned down and kissed her again, which she accepted, letting her thoughts scatter in the wind. Like so many books she’d seen Royce read, it turned into the weird parts where the characters gave into their desires.

“See? You get me tonight, too, Treefucker.”

Out of nowhere came a female voice, one neither of the couple thought to hear anytime soon. 

“Shit, Treefucker’s _home_? Now I have to pay for the peacebloom this time!”


	5. Royce

A week and a half later, Nash’s sister Lehoanna remained with the couple. She stayed mostly due to the fact that she had little money to pay her brother back for the amount of peacebloom she’d stolen from him in the past. Nash made sure to get her to help him in his normal routines. This, he told her, would be how she could pay him back. He did make sure to keep her away from the small garden out back, though. 

“I remember you when you were younger. You and my brother,” Lele blurted when she saw the other woman approaching from her left. “He said you left him for a human when those bug-people started coming over the wall again.” She looked up from sorting the wood into which logs would be used to set up another part of Nash’s hut. 

Tay groaned almost silently, wishing he’d not said anything about their relationship to his sister. She’d be prying and asking for details about it. Prying and reminding her of all the things she had forced him through, all the way up to now. Maybe now she could explain and try to smooth it over with her side of the story--the one not riddled with bits and pieces of the full truth she refused to tell. One day she would, though.

 _Can I meet one person outside my family that I’m taller than? And not fucking humans, those don’t count,_ she thought. Glancing down at her shoulder, she spotted another mark on her, which promptly caused her to cover it up with another one of Nash’s stolen shirts. Heat flooded her face as she hoped another one wouldn’t show while she spoke. For extra measures, she pulled the sleeves all the way down. 

“It wasn’t exactly like that, Lele--”

“Lehoanna. Only my brother calls me that,” Lele corrected. 

“It’s not exactly the way you think. We split up in agreement that we should- “ Tay stopped, coughing nervously as she thought about what words to use, “-split up to, uh, focus on ourselves…” Talking to Lehoanna proved to be a mistake as she tried to explain, but found herself trailing off. 

“Oh, that’s your side, huh. I think I’ll determine the truth of it when I see how you treat him, Taylande,” she retorted. 

The priestess bit her tongue, trying now not to screw up what might be a good friendship between the two. “It’s Tay, actually. Anyways, I need to head up to Lor’danel. I owe your brother something and there’s supposed to be a fellow I’ve to meet real quick. Could you let him know for me?” 

Lele grunted, giving her brother’s lover a brisk, curt nod. She took the time to pause her work, which she’d almost finished in the time Tay had spoken, and made sure to watch where she went off to. She didn’t trust the priestess. Woman had left a trail of broken hearts and a ruined half-elf behind her to follow. Find that half-elf, one would find the priestess.

She finished up her work and brushed off the small bark chips, spinning on her heel and marching over to where her brother sat. She glared angrily at him until he noticed. He didn't, due to being so far into meditating. Lele cleared her throat loudly.

“What?” he asked.

“Why are you even with her? What’s wrong with you in the mind, Treefucker?!” Lele spat. “She wrecks your emotions, cheats on you, and all this other crap and you _take her back_? Are you a special kind of stupid, big brother? I don't care if she is one of the few who don't make fun of your lisp, SHE. HAS. HURT. YOU.”

“You will be quiet right now. I love her, and had I not taken her into my home she would have died. When she got here she nearly entered shock. She wouldn't have made it much longer if I’d not intervened. And now, she’s- Never mind it. You get my point. Smoke some peacebloom, and pass me the joint since we both need to calm down.”

Lele lit one up after rolling it together for her and Nash. She didn't let up, taking in a deep breath of the stuff and passing it off to her brother. “I'm calmer. What do you mean when you say she’d’ve died?” Lele asked, raising a brow and turning her gaze to him.

“She had some large bruises and cuts on her, ones not completely healed. Tay forgot to treat those. Her hand she tended to but… what she fought, and what it gave her--” he paused, sucking in more of the addictive peacebloom. He huffed out, smoke filling the gap of space in front of him. “--she wouldn't have lasted long. I said shock kicked in.”

“But why not heal her and send her off? It's not like she’s going to stay! And give me the damn blunt before you use it all!” Lele snapped, ripping it from his hands.

“She won't be leaving me, not anymore.”

“Why do you say that? Because she promised?” Lele asked, aggressiveness gradually seeping into her tone. “Because she hasn't run off and fucked another woman? Because she swears she hasn't gone and cheated since the half-elf? Or is it--”

“She is _pregnant_ with _my child_ and that is why she won't leave!” Nash barked. A glare stretched across his face, so awful they seemed to bore through one’s being. Terrifying could be used to describe him when he got this way. When Nash got mad, the fool invoked the fury of a wild bear.

Lele dropped the blunt on her pants. It singed her clothing, though she largely ignored it as she tried to process what her elder brother just told her. The blunt had burned a hole through her pants. Nash took note of it, mentally reminding himself to mend them later.

“You… What? How long? There's nothing there!” she questioned.

“She doesn't know. The child's been there for nearly two weeks. It'll be so tomorrow. The bump will begin showing up later--should, anyways.”

“When’s she gonna figure it out, brother? Will you tell her?”

“No. Tay’s smart. She’ll know in a month or so. Maybe earlier, but who knows?”

“Here, you should smoke up while you can.” Lele picked up the blunt and passed it to Nash.

~~~~~

Meanwhile, Tay wandered about Lor’danel hoping to spot the damned mage she should have met with two weeks ago. The military would be pissed, possibly throw her into one of their jails for abandoning her post. This is what happened when she thought she could be happy. Surprise visits from assholes and people who wanted her head. She grumbled a series of curses under her breath, not able to help wondering if the mage had left already.

“Oi, fuckass,” hollered a low, tenorlike voice in terribly pronounced Darnassian. Tay took in a deep breath, withholding the urge to slap him as far as he could go. She’d told him over and over that the pronunciation he used meant that and not ‘asshole'. Human never listened, though.

She turned to meet her old colleague, who had since lost a leg and wobbled around on a peg and leaned on his own staff. She had lots of reasons to not go on boats, the mage’s loss of his leg being one.

“Ivan, how’re you holding up? And have you received word from the higher-ups about the old Righteous Dorei?” she questioned, cracking a smile. The use of their group’s old nickname made the mage, Ivan, grin a little bit. Royce started calling them that in Outlands. Mostly due to their meeting many a religious figures. 

“Shitty. Still numb over what you did to Royce, and how you’re why I lost my leg. Not gonna stop blaming you. And yes. While we wait for a signal, we are on cleanup duty. And if some dumbass from the Darkshire or Redridge Squadrons gets captured by another wolfrider, we play rescue. They want to see you within the next month, or you're in trouble.”

Ivan kept a steady glare on her, putting his weight onto his right side and reaching into a pocket. He removed a sealed letter, stamped with the wax seal of the Alliance Lion. “Something for Nash,” was the only explanation she got. He huffed when she took the letter from his hand, allowing him to shift his weight back to how he could normally stand.

“I'm here for the next week. Get your friend-with-benefits with you. If you're not here in that time, you're on your own.”

Tay offered him a taut smile. “Well, nice to see you too Ivan. I think I'll get a local mage. If you'll excuse me.” With that, she turned into the inn and purchased a room plus two bottles of the Darnassian wine Nash had previous to her drinking all of it. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Gilneas. It loomed in the distance. Why she’d been the only one sent to this Goddess-damned place made no sense. Yes, send the elven priestess with drinking problems and a reputation for bedding women! Her gaze had been fixed on the horizon since she boarded this ship, thoughts swimming.

Yet always still, those voices in the back of her mind persisted. Bombarding her with doubts and insecurities galore: like her scars, her facial tattoos (she needed them changed terribly), and her guilt over bedding that one. Damned. Draenei.

 _You were drunk,_ she would keep telling herself. It never worked. The draenei had been the only one who let her release all those pent-up emotions. She couldn't stop asking herself if something more could have come from that. If she’d just… left Aeva, never come back. But no, she couldn't put Aeva through it. Instead, getting caught cheating had been her grand idea.

“Milady priestess, we near their harbor. I’d suggest clearing your quarters in case a few must use it,” a sentinel recommended.

Tay grunted. “It's been that way forever. A hammock and a satchel’s all there is.”

“Understood. I assume you’d like t--”

“Go, please. I need a moment to think before I start my duties.”

The sentinel nodded once, making a couple of rounds on deck before heading to the captain, wherever the fool normally stayed. Tay waited a moment before heading off near the entrance to the lower deck of the ship. She cracked open a skin of ale. It grew to be the one thing that blocked out all of her rash decisions, making her numb as she got more and more tolerating of the stuff.

“I can't believe I'm letting some of the Gilneans use Buckbeak if they need. But oh, wait. I'm being forced to,” she mumbled to herself. She lifted a skin that hung from her belt and uncapped it, proceeding to down its contents as quick as she could without heaving up her stomach. Even though she’d been drinking since the Qiraji decided to return, she still had some troubles keeping the ale down. Wherever Torrolf got stationed while she stood on this boat, she needed to find him and slap him. Then proceed to drink him under the table. 

A horn sounded, their signal to ready themselves up for docking. She’d drink ‘til she lost her lunch later. They told her to be ready to heal the wounds of those who board the ship. From what she gathered, something awful happened in this pitiful nation of humans that demanded their attention. Something with wolf-men and Forsaken, they said. Forsaken she could handle. Wolf-men not so much. 

It didn’t help that she’d been half-drunk when she received her orders. Wolf-men and Forsaken, humans getting pulled into their mess. The nation’s distress had become known to the kaldorei well into the invasion, or whatever they’d been dealing with for the past couple of months. Most likely the peoples would be wiped out when the boats arrived. If they were lucky, maybe a few stragglers would have lived to see the, erm, clouds of rain the next day. 

Tay groaned, once again asking herself why the higher-ups chose her to go. Why not her cousin? Why pick her, the one who had no experience with wolves and people turning into wolves? They should have sent Nar. Nar fought in the Satyr War. Nar had dealt with the druids using some stupid scythe that warped their minds. Nar fought alongside them. Nar watched their being sent into an eternal slumber by Stormrage. But no, send in the inexperienced, drunk-off-her-ass, hotheaded priestess who wasn’t even that much of one. Smart move. 

When they had landed and the great vessels halted, she realized she vastly underestimated the wolf-man thing. Every other person had that underlying reek of dog, and half the peoples were shifted into their feral forms. She knew she’d be drinking later.

~~~~~

Hugin sighed, scratching at his mustache that had been itching like hell since his last shifting. Elves were showing up. Orcs and walking corpses invaded their homeland. But he was not a fighter. He was--nay, _is_ \--a healer. He helped behind the shelter of the main camps, aiding by repairing the men and sending them off again.

He watched and watched as one surly-looking elf woman scanned every single one of his people like tools to be used and discarded. His father always said to beware the man who looked at good folk with that in their faces. But Jacob Bishopp had died years ago. Something about this elf screamed at him to approach her. 

Hugin would find a way to reach her and speak to her. Maybe the elf-woman had some training in the healing arts. Light knows he needed a mentor.

~~~~~

Tay surveyed the area and directed a glaive thrower here or there. Perhaps the military said she needed experience in something stupid and sent her here to learn. She wouldn't. She’d be drunker than all fucking hell next morning. Tay also made a mental note to watch the Gilnean fellow that kept eyeballing her. 

If he wanted sex, he could go to another woman. She had a strict rule of only human women. The only man she could truly say she’d loved so far had been Nashathel, and they called him away to Hyjal. Damn, she missed that grumpy druid. Too bad they sent him off to Hyjal to help with whatever damned thing happened up here. 

As she strode off the ship and into the town, she took more time to survey the peoples that stood in the small square. Pathetic, the lot of them. She’d bed half the women before they reached Rut’theran. Her eyes searched about for the ones she planned to do first, hoping to save the better-looking ones for when their vessels neared their destination. 

“We’re gonna be here a while, Buckbeak…” she mumbled as the hippogryph let out a snapping noise. Tay groaned, following a sentinel that looked strangely familiar to her. 

She spotted the one Gilnean who’d been eyeing her. Tay split away from the group, narrowing her eyes and taking a turn to be quickly out of sight but near enough to the host of kaldorei to be safe. The Gilnean’s eyes widened as he followed her like some dutiful animal. Soon as she rounded the bend, she rammed him into the wall.

“Whatever the fuck you want from me, don’t look here. Better explain to me right now why your ass kept staring. Now,” she hissed in his face, spit flying. 

“Jus’... Calm down, dammit, and I’ll say!” he growled. 

The underlying scent of dog made Tay want to cringe and back away. Why did dogs always have to be a problem for her? Oh well. She’d tolerate it as long as he didn’t try killing her, and as long as the women were good in bed. She shouldn’t be thinking this stuff, though, while confronting the wandering-eye-man. She let him go, hands sliding into her robe to grip her blades. Silverblade and Ellemayne would be ready.

“I’m a priest. Needin’ a mentor, is why. You looked the sort of a holy person. A-are you? G’oh, shit, my name you’ll need. Hugin Bishopp, m’lady, at your beck and call,” he introduced, offering a slight, sincere bow. Him--a priest. He’d be far better than her, but she couldn’t accept an apprentice.  No, no, not now, not ever, not in a thousand-thousand years would she accept one. She could not train somebody, even if they begged and begged and begged. 

“M’lady, please. I’m needing one so terribly. I am not a fighter, my father made sure to point it out and sent me onto the streets. Please,” he pleaded once more, mustache seeming to bristle with anxiety. 

“...Talk with me after we deal with the iszera dun’a and en’thal quenat in your lands. You don’t want to be trained under me, too, as you’ll be one of Varian’s many damned tools to be sent out, fucking human king. But if you still want it we can talk after.”

~~~~~

Buckbeak came back to kaldorei lands with an injured haunch. One of the feral bastards had clawed him when they fell from not maintaining a firm enough grip. First timers. He would be resting in Rut’theran until he was well enough to fly again. Tay remained angry at whatever bastard hurt her friend, even if he refused to speak a damned word to her. She also hoped she didn’t invite the one who hurt him to her bed, while on that boat.

He became her apprentice. Hugin Bishopp, student of an elf. And a damned arse of one, too. He made a point to call her that, most of the women she’d bedded on the return voyage calling her that at some point or another. When she returned, she learned she had been called to Stormwind effective immediately. One mage offered to conjure a portal to the city, though it took them a couple of hours for the portal to remain steady. 

“Tay! You’re here! But what about Torrolf and Aeva?” came an all-too-familiar voice. Amelia Royce. What a delight it’d be to see her again. Such a sweet girl, and Ivan showered her in so many gifts and displays of love she thought the poor girl would explode from it all. Tay knew she would, but mostly from the constant doting he displayed. 

“I’m here, all right. Last I’d heard, Torrolf went to the Highlands to help his Wildhammer kin. I thought he said that his mum was Wildhammer. Aeva went with him at the request of those paladins. Although I think she’s serving under the banners of the Alliance and Argents. Anyways,” Tay waved a hand, dismissing the thoughts. “What’re we doing?”

“Claiming us a strip of land off Stormwind’s coast!” Royce bubbled. So perky, the polar opposite of Ivan. Him being a grim and quiet magus, and her a happy, sweet rogue, how did they even come to meet? Were they both from Ivan’s home? Or was Royce a child of that one lost kingdom, that one that now belonged to the Banshee Queen? 

Tay lost that faint smile, instead it being replaced by a glower. Why couldn’t she have dragged Hugin along, given him a taste of just what they did? No, she had told him to set up a home in Darnassus atop Teldrassil. So damned smart. Give the man a lick of all her bullshit. But he’d done as she requested, waiting patiently for orders to come about what to do. Damn that worgen, damn him for being such a dutiful and loyal man. 

She couldn’t blame him, though. She had shit to do. 

~~~~~ 

The boat riding, the constant lapping of waves, so much of it she hated. So. Much. Water. She didn’t feel particularly fond towards that, only going in when she had to. Tay preferred flying. 

One night, though, they’d been drinking. But she didn’t drink that night. Something kept telling her to not do it, and so she trusted that gut feeling, hoping it would prove her right for trusting it. This night didn’t feel kind, and Royce had gotten drunk as hell. Ivan had been helping above deck, so she offered to take her back to her room. 

“Tay… Tay… I want you to love me,” she breathed. The elf grinned, thinking it would be okay for this night. Ivan wouldn’t have to know, Royce would most likely not even remember, and Tay hadn’t had any pleasure since the women from Gilneas. Oh, how they moaned her name. She could elicit that reaction from Royce, but decided to go on the safe side. 

Ivan wouldn’t have to know. Ivan _couldn’t_ know. Not at all. Not ever. 

“If you ask nicely, perhaps,” she purred. She wanted to make Royce scream, scream to where she’d be forced to shove a hand over the human’s mouth, make it like that night in Northrend, like the draenei had. “My only thing is that you don’t be loud enough for people to hear. After all, Ivan could walk in at any moment.”

“Then fuck me already. He hasn’t for so long,” Royce begged, so clearly drunk off her ass. Tay grinned an awful, impish grin and brushed some of her hair from her face. She pulled Royce into her own personal cabin. Mostly, she’d stocked ale into it and a small bed large enough for herself plus a small person. Like Royce. 

Tay began to undo the buckles that bound Royce’s chest harness to her, fumbling and getting them off with Royce’s help. She roughly shoved Royce back into the bed as she continued to strip off the clothing that somehow now felt like they were smothering the two women. So many layers, so much blocking them from having fun. 

Royce reached up as soon as she’d slid her pants from her body, grasping onto Tay’s collar so greedily, so hungrily, like a predator yearning for its food, and slammed their lips together. Tay savored it, stealing a glance down low to find that Royce hadn’t been wearing anything underneath those pants. 

She took this opportunity to slide a hand up the human’s thigh, pulling a quick gasp from her. Tay grinned through the kiss, pulling apart and sliding a finger into Royce’s nether regions. She leaned back onto the small mattress covered only in a thick blanket which doubled as Tay’s traveling cloak. Tay flicked out her tongue, letting her finger slide in and out of Royce painfully slow. She knew the other woman wanted her to go faster, but Tay wouldn't do that.

She ran her tongue down Royce’s neck and to her bare breast, Tay dragging it across the exposed nipple. Royce gasped and begged for more, voice steadily rising until Tay stopped altogether and slammed her hand over Royce’s mouth, leaving her breathing heavily.

“Remember,” she growled, “Ivan could walk in at whatever moment he pleases and see you sprawled across the bed with me all inside you. Hush.”

Royce nodded, trying to grind her hips against something, anything at all to spark her release. Tay eyed Royce and lowered herself to her knees, level with the human’s exposed legs. An idea came to mind. Tay stood, clicking the door to her room quietly closed and returned to her previous position. She silently begged the Goddess for Ivan to not walk in.

Tay leaned forward, shooting Royce a glare indicating to be quiet as she prowled forward. She buried her face in between Royce’s legs, using her tongue to lick and tease and work wonders on Royce. And neither objected. 

She felt Royce’s legs tightening around her head, sending a quick tremor of pain through her head. Royce’s hand she felt tangling through her messy hair, trying feebly to hold Tay in that position for as much pleasure as she could want. How good Royce tasted to her. She did as much as she could to prolong their encounter, dragging out as much as possible by pausing when she thought Royce might spill over. 

Eventually, Royce’s release happened as Tay would stop and wait for the pleasure to die down before starting up again. Tay had only stopped now because she felt tiredness creeping up on her like a shadow in the dark.

Tay pulled herself and the other woman under the blanket, choosing to risk being caught by Ivan. He wouldn't mind once she’d given him the excuse that his wife wandered into the wrong bed. 

Yes, it would work. 

Tay woke the next morning, half-dressed in the band that held her breasts (fair in size, but not too much of a bother) and pants she had stolen from an old lover. Royce had remained curled up next to her, one arm draped across Tay’s abdomen and head resting on the elf’s chest. 

She drifted back off, waking again to a bell shrieking and cutting its way through her rest (mostly nightmares). Royce was already up and dressing, daggers of hers shoved into the belt. There went last night’s meal, but Tay could see she moved about with a slight limp. She’d done her job perfectly fine.

The bell came ringing through again, this time causing her to get up and grab Silverblade and Ellemayne into a hand. She shot out from her small room, not bothering to throw a robe over her exposed torso. They’d seen woman before. They could handle some more. Besides, she gathered they were too preoccupied with the Horde to care.

Ivan stood in front of her, fuming. “You had sex with my wife?! She's nearly two months pregnant and my lover, AND YOU BED HER?!” 

“We don't have time for this, you fucking mage! Last I checked, we have orcs to kill!” Tay spat back, not awake enough to get into a pissing match with a human who proved more stubborn than an untrained saber cat.

Now she really, _really_ wished Hugin had been dragged along. 

Horde began to board the ship, roping in here or there and laughing as they screamed their bloody war chant. “Lok’tar ogar!” she heard one screech before it cleaved off the head of one soldier. Her eyes darted around as she hoped to find where Royce had run off to.

No. Oh, no. Tay ran, dodging between blades until one caught her left side. This pulled a quick scream of pain from her as she spun around and met the snarling face of an orc. Their strength still surprised her, even if she’d been fighting them since Silithus happened.

She ducked and tried to dodge to its side and take it out, failing and earning another slice on her back from some nearby orc. Tay turned, slashing at the fool who forgot how to move away from the angry elf with shiny blades.

“ZIN NA’O!” she cried, driving Silverblade into its skull. Tay caught herself referring to the dead male as an it. They were not things, no more than she was. The orcs, they had lives and families and something to fight for, along with their personal gains. She felt loathing rise up in her, so high she didn't note--

The orc behind her gave a cry, jamming a jagged piece of something into her right shoulderblade. Well, at least the orc didn't shove it into her dominant side. Silently, Tay offered up a prayer to Elune before she let Ellemayne come out and taste the blood of the fool. She kept going, hoping no other orc would try to come after her. She jinxed herself. 

One ran up to her. And another. And another. Three of the bastards ran up to her, forcing her to abandon the use of her daggers for Elune’s Fire. She hated using that on things that weren’t demons or undead. Hell, she hated orcs but knew they didn’t deserve all that damned agony the fire could inflict. Save that to the unnatural things. 

The first one swung an axe at her, and Tay quickly hooked one dagger in the curve of the orc’s weapon, rendering it immobile until he broke it away. She kept that blade up, Ellemayne free to be used to gut one of the bastards that came near. One made that mistake, and she swung low, nicking their leg and drawing blood. Not even close to a major issue. 

Tay concentrated, hoping to send a blast of Elune’s Fire through the blade. She struggled to maintain her position with the axeman, shoving back at him and kicking her leg out at the third member of the party. “Zin na’o, k’laen iszera dun’a, o--” She got cut off in the middle of her prayer, getting winded when the axe broke free and the pommel slammed into her stomach. 

Elune’s Fire directed itself through Ellemayne and seared through the orc. A bloodcurdling scream arose from their throat as she took this chance to slice their neck. They fell to the ground, sending the remaining two into a rage she struggled to fight against. Silverblade found its way wedged into one’s leg, remaining there until she could remove it. For now, all she had was Ellemayne, the legendary Reaver, and Elune’s Fire. 

Fear and adrenaline pumped through her veins as she struggled to act against it. She remembered enough from her father’s brutal beatings that adrenaline would not help her. She’d only been lucky when he tried to steal her face. One time it had helped. Not again, she didn’t trust it anymore. Luck just happens. Now, her life depended on it. Not like before, when that woman had been watching herself. Tay still had that cloak. She’d have to get it soon. 

The axe orc dropped his weapon and went for the blade in his thigh, providing a quick opening. She rammed Ellemayne into his chest. It did not kill him. She began to hiss out a string of curses, each one getting progressively more and more offensive. Only Elune’s Fire. Tay roared out loud, screeching something rapidly in Darnassian. She slammed her fiery palm into his face, burning the orc--no, frying was more appropriate. 

Silverblade and Ellemayne she ripped from the orc’s dead body, quickly dispatching the last member of the trio that made a fatal mistake in fighting her. She felt sore, having strained herself to hold out against the axe that had pressed down into her wrist. 

Tay ran for Royce, who now got cornered by three other orcs. She would not stand by herself alone. Tay began to run through the crowd of fighting, Ivan beginning to scream behind her.

“Run faster, dammit! Run faster!” he screeched. He roared something else, but she didn't catch it. A large, suctioned tentacle slammed into the side where Royce once stood. Time seemed to pass by so quickly to her, and she turned, running to go after Ivan--

Who lost his leg when the boat’s mast came tumbling down. It got trapped, and the ship broke into two. Maybe she could save him, save him and rush to Royce’s rescue and they’d be safe to live their lives. She could save them, she could do it, she could do it, she could most definitely--

The sea monster slammed another limb into the ship, pulling it down under the waves. Tay slid into her cabin. Well, what had been her cabin. She grasped tightly to the cloak she kept on her. She’d grown attached to it, taken it with her wherever, like it had been an essential weapon to keep and hone for years. 

She would never be quick enough to save those she cared for. She would never be quick enough to save her fellow soldier. She could never be fast enough. Not in a thousand-thousand years.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The day Royce died had been the day Tay quit bedding women and riding on the sea. She’d resorted to keeping her bed open to only Nash and Aeva, and, she silently added, to that draenei if she ever came back. Tay couldn’t count on one hand how many women she’d bedded, and how many had tried to keep her for themselves. She didn’t want to be tied down, and never once subjected herself to be the pleasured one. The only exception: the draenei.

Her trek back to Nashathel’s had been littered with various noises that placed her on edge. She still couldn’t shake the feeling that Ivan watched her as she took the pathways and some backwood trails that veered off from the main roads. She had a letter and alcohol to give to him, and those backwood paths seemed like the quickest route to take.

She proved herself right, smirking ever so slightly, even with one wine bottle in her hand, the other tucked under her arm, letter right there with that first bottle. Nash would be pleased. So would she later that night, if Lele weren’t sleeping inside the small home with them. That would complicate the matter and he still insisted they could use the cave only a little ways off. 

However, Tay still dwelt on the hostility in Ivan’s voice. He’d been right so many times. And this time, he was right. She caused Royce’s death by not being fast enough. She caused Ivan to lose his leg by not bothering to heal his wounds after infection had set in. She’d chosen her cloak over him.

_Selfish bastard, _she thought to herself as the guilt began to settle in her gut like a stone. _You filthy, selfish bastard,_ Tay beat into her mind as she edged open the door to her lover’s home.__


	6. The Burn

Not even a week later, Tay found herself half out of her mind from the peacebloom one eve and swore to never touch it again. That is, once she’d sobered up enough to think correctly. The stuff had muddied her senses too much. She swore to Nash it was true. Instead of smoking it, she suggested, she can stick to the alcohol plus some debt she’d owe to Nash after drinking all of his. He reluctantly agreed. 

“So… when you two are busy poking, mind keeping it down a bit? I need my beauty sleep, and your loud moaning is no help at all!” Lele exclaimed out of nowhere while they all sat inside occupied by something. “And how many times did you go at it before I got here?” 

Tay’s face darkened in color as she looked up from one of Nash’s old learning books on herbs, turning to stare at him. His face had turned an equally dark color. “I’m not answering any of her questions, surfas,” she hissed through gritted teeth. She stood and moved outside to get away from the snooping little sister who spied on them while they were, ah, occupied. She’d rather pit the siblings at each other’s throats than have both at hers. Goddess knew she had too much of that. 

It took her a scant few moments to find a comfortable-looking tree and scale it, nestling herself between the branches. While she did this, she could faintly make out their hushed, angry whispers she could only assume to be about Lele--no, Lehoanna’s--questions about Tay and Nash’s… relationship. She could wait out this strange chat between siblings in a tree and with a good book. 

Inside, Nash gaped as the door halted back it’s closed position. He looked over at his sister, who conveniently had a smirk on her mouth. Lele threw herself back onto the chair and waited for those rushed answers to spill out. She wanted them. Their roughhousing kept her up when she tried to go to sleep. Lele couldn’t differentiate the moans and that made it even worse for her. Or better. Either way, she got to make a good joke out of it. 

“I…” Nash stuttered, trying to form some semblance of an answer. 

“Am waiting,” Lele concluded. 

“What?” he asked.

“You said ‘I’ and I said, ‘am waiting’. What do you think I said?” 

“Smartass,” he grunted, “I, uh, it’s Tay. And… well, a lot. S--Wait, why are you even asking this and why am I telling you?!!” Nash glared, lips pulling together in a thin line of silence. Now he asked the questions and got the answers. 

“Because you love your little sister and I need more sleep. Next time, do it in the cave like you did that one time,” she innocently chimed, smiling. Her face was the picture image of innocence and well-meaning. Like hell she’d ever mean well since she knew how to break the arm of a plated-up sentinel like it were some butter spread. 

Nash sighed and shook his head, standing up from his position to take a quick stride to the small cabinet near the sofa-slash-guest bed. He had some dry, hard foods in there he could store easily, along with some salted fish, most of which consisted of salmon from a nearby stream. He bent down to open it, pulling a few nuts and dried berries plus some smaller strips of said fish for a small meal. 

“You can feel free to have some. I don’t need to say that after you devoured all your food after the peacebloom and then ate all my damned moonberries the next time. Anyways, you’ve never told me. How’s min’da?” Nash questioned absentmindedly. He chewed on a few of the nuts and berries, only throwing in some fish after he’d downed the former of the two. 

Lele froze, eyes glazing over with anger. She turned slowly to face her elder brother. He took a quick note of how her face became a mask of conflicting rage and pain. She growled. At him. Her only sibling. Nash knew, in this moment, he was royally fucked. Lele took a threatening step towards him. 

Nash, terrified for one of the few times in his life, backed up and fell helplessly into a chair. He didn’t say a word. The assortment of foods in his hand he shoved into his mouth, not wanting a single crumb to go to waste. He watched as she reached for something to throw, like she always did. Oh, but her throwing things meant it would be an extreme fit of anger. Nash forced himself from the chair in case he had to run or tackle her to the ground. 

“Our mother is _dead_! Do you want to hear the story of how I was the only one who stayed with her while she died? You fucking ass! That damned disease she got melted her brain ‘til she could barely speak! And when do you think this happened?” she screamed, hurling a heavy book of herbs towards his head.

He ducked, but barely. It hit the back wall with a loud thud as it fell. “During that Cataclysm!” Lele screamed at him. She grabbed an empty clay pot, throwing it too. Nash fell to his side, heaving himself up after it shattered against one of the house’s supporting wall beams. “Where were you?” she screamed again. Another small clay pot, this time one that he used to grow his indoor silverleaf for a local alchemist. The plant freefell, Nash rushing over and grabbing it up, laying it gently on the cabinet before Lele threw something else.

“Lele--” Nash started.

“ _ **Do not call me that!**_ ” she screeched at him, picking up his only decorative vase. She now stood near his bed, having moved around his home. Nash tried to say something to stop her from throwing it. “Mother cried out for _you_ , brother! In her last moments she called out for us all, but mostly for you!” The vase spun towards his head.  
The front door opened. A figure, short (to Nash) and quick, rushed towards him and straightened her form, shoving him roughly into the wall as half the vase slammed into her fist as soon as she extended it. Lele spat once again at Nash, “She died while you dreamt of happy flowers in your Emerald Dream!” 

Nash sighed, an utterly defeated and anguished look in his eye. “Please leave for a few hours, Lele. I need to think on this…” His little sister glared at both him and the newcomer, stalking out the door and slamming it shut. He turned to whoever had taken the vase meant for him. Nash prayed to the Goddess that his sister would come back so he could apologize sooner rather than later.

“Tay, you’ve got glass all over your hand. You’re bleeding again…” Nash groaned worriedly.

“I know, and it hurts. You’re not though, right? I’m more worried for you.” She scanned him up and down, eyes narrowed as she took her time to make sure he’d be alright. Tay tucked her bleeding hand under her left arm. 

“No. Just emotionally. Step outside, though. You’re getting help whether you like it or not.”

Tay groaned and followed him out with no complaints. He made her wait near the edge of the house as he turned round back to grab Elune knows what. She waited for as long as she dared to wait for, slowly getting impatient. One thing she’d have been glad for in those early years stuck with her father would be a lesson of patience. She shifted uneasily from one foot to the other, eventually trying to move around her injured hand. 

She grunted, quickly pulling it into a fist to try and ease the pain. She only ground her teeth together, hoping to distract herself. Tay looked around the corner and waited for Nash to return. He didn’t. A growl sounded from her throat as she made her way around the back of the house and hoped to find him. 

“Sit your ass down, you moronic woman!” Nash glared and pointed to a small bench he’d set up near the house. Tay obeyed. She laid her hand on her knee, waiting for Nash to either place a salve on it or heal it with his druidic skills. 

Nash removed a small handful of clean bandages he’d found lying in a hollowed-out, moss covered hole in his cave’s wall. Thankfully he’d also had some of the herbs useful for treating injuries. If his love hadn’t waited like he’d said to to, the juices from the plant would be ready to apply. But now she’d have to wait a bit longer, which bothered him. What if the wounds got infected? What would happen if it caused some sort of irreparable damage? What if--

He forced the thoughts from his mind, focusing on the poultice. “Tell me the story behind that small burn on your ankle, the one you think nobody ever notices,” he said, hoping this would prove to be a good distraction.  
“...I-oh. It’s a long one,” Tay tried to warn, thinking he wouldn’t ask.

“Okay. And I have time for it.”

“If you insist. This is the beginning of how I got my ass into some deep shit. It’s awful, disappointing, and I can’t believe I’m telling it to you.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

She refused to go back to Vashj’ir. She’d be damned if she ever did. Why would she ever go back to a place that caused her to lose someone she cared for. She would not let herself care again, not after she’d lost Aeva, lost Nashathel, Royce, and that special, strange bond she had with Ivan. She lost them all. All of it her own fault, too.

“Hugin, get off your ass. We’re going to Hyjal. No questions.”

“Yes, Master! I’ll be right with you, just need my staff ‘nd I’ll be set,” Hugin replied, jumping from his chair and grabbing the satchel that lay beside it. He took two lengthy strides to where his staff rested in the corner of his small house, in the crook of a wall and a bookcase. His house, the standard unit of lodging in Darnassus, rested on one of the northernmost areas within the Craftsmen's Terrace in the city. 

“Don’t call me master. You know I hate it and I’ll make sure you never hear the end of the angry lecturing that’s been going on in Stormwind about “the end” and all that crap. Now hurry up,” Tay spat, storming off towards the portal connecting Rut’theran to Darnassus. Hugin came up behind her at a jog, just barely keeping up with his mentor’s long, angry strides. He didn’t shift as it became too uncomfortable. 

The duo marched through the portal with ease, Tay putting on a facade. She flipped from her agitated walk to her prideful, arrogant swaggering of purpose and ‘look at me’. That damned impish, uncomfortable smirk crossed her face as she acted like everything with her was a-oh-kay and nothing for her had ever gone wrong. A man stepped out from the building that sheltered the hippogryphs as she swaggered on over, pulling out a small bag jingling around and nearly overflowing with various coins. 

Hugin eyed his mentor curiously. She never acted like this, not since he saw her about as drunk as anyone could get on that boat to Rut’theran. He followed the two elves that now spoke in hushed Darnassian about the magnificent beasts resting in their perches. The male led them both to one certain one which seemed to have a constant scowl pulled across its face. 

He stared at the bird whose eyes now opened, scanning the room. The eyes landed on him. Immediate discomfort. Hugin shifted from foot to foot, hoping it wouldn’t say a single word. At all. Not near him, at least. He already had to get used to all these Goddess-damned--

 _Master Taylande’s in your head too much, Hugh!_ he told himself. _And quit callin’ her master! You know she doesn’t like it. Call her something like… like that one elvish word you call your teacher._

“Hugin, if you’re trying to comprehend something about Buckbeak, just say it instead of frying your brain,” Tay said, pulling him from the trance. She looked back over at the hippogryph--Buckbeak, Hugin gathered--and grinned sweetly, scratching under its chin. “I don’t care if you hate it, your soft feathers are comforting. Talk to my damned apprentice, too.”

“Rodne lakhos,” Buckbeak grunted. Tay glared at the beast, which, from the voice, Hugin gathered to be a male of the race of bird-beast-things. All this new stuff complicated things for him. Why couldn’t he go back to being a filthy street orphan in the Gilneas City sewers and the more… ‘trashy’ areas, to put it lightly. 

“He’s not ugly, he’s a… Gilnean. One cursed with the worgen thing,” she reminded Buckbeak. Buckbeak only turned a conspicuous eye back to his partner’s apprentice, who once again shifted his feet under the intense gaze of the bird.

“Uhm, ma’am--”

“Shan’do, Hugin. I thought I told you that.”

“Shan’do, then. Alright, I can say that. Shan’do, does he know any Common?” he asked.

“Yes, actually. Enough to be conversational in your backwards language, but he refuses to use it and stick to his standard Darnassian,” Tay replied. She held up a finger to tell Hugin to wait on replying. She turned over to the keeper of these hippogryphs. While she spoke, Buckbeak kept his eyes trained on the anxious Gilnean. “And now how long ‘til he can fly again?” 

A faint reply of something in Darnassian came, but Hugin ignored all sounds to focus on the strange beast that his shan’do had picked out as her personal ride to here and there. The two were locked in an intense staring contest, waiting like two predators for one to give.

Hugin thought he would lose, no matter how many times this would go on. But he felt something about this beast stir in his chest. He liked this bird, Buckbeak. Buckbeak had the patience of a lion and the inquisitive look of a traveling scholar seeking as much knowledge as he could before he had to return from whence he came. Perhaps he could come to trust Buckbeak. 

“Maybe you and I’ll come to like each other, ah? For now we can just stare at each other. Dunno if you got that all, but it doesn’t matter. I’m gonna be stuck traveling around with your owner, though,” Hugin breathed so quiet only Buckbeak could pick it up.

Buckbeak gave a knowing nod before turning his head, tucking it into his feathered wing to get some semblance of rest. Hugin nodded back. He knew the bird didn’t catch it but it didn’t matter to him. 

“Alright, Hugin. C’mon. We’re gonna be using this beautiful woman here. Her name’s Lani’zin. I wonder who she’s named after, if glory is in her name. Maybe someone’s mate?” Tay theorized, turning back to her apprentice. “I, apparently, only have enough money for one hippogryph to be used for now. The tender here says her owner won’t mind anyone using her, say the man needed her stabled while he went off to do something.” 

Tay and Hugin saddled up, the latter of the two being loaded with all of their satchels and supplies. Lani’zin carried the bulk of their food, water, and sheltering supplies but none of it seemed to hinder the lovely beast. She flew them on, dutifully.

~~~~~~

She made a mistake coming to this mountain. So many cultists. If only her big sister were here, she’d be completely safe from any and all harm that would dare come after her. Now she found herself alone, without Aeva to help. They were always a duo growing up. The two half-blooded sisters of Alterac. Their mother endured being called a whore, a cheater, a disloyal wife, and so many other things just for the sake of the family. 

But now she descended into the burning village now occupied by Twilight’s Hammer sympathizers. Her fear made her heart pound violently as she burst into a sprint to try and track down and save as many of the peoples here as she could. Even if her skills included the healing arts with some martial training, she wouldn’t do very well in an environment of skilled psychopaths. This, truly, would be her greatest mistake, she decided---

As she got slammed into the side of a burning home. The glimpse she got made her heart skip a beat. Erik, one of her bestest friends from childhood. With these… these… _monsters_. 

“Aw, look! Little Alexis Petrovsky,” Erik spat into her ear. “You know, I wanted you that whole time we spent there. And at every offer, you turned me down, little love. Big brother and sisters aren’t here to help you. Sad. You’re mine now.” His voice went from contempt to pity to such anger in so little time. He sounded like a ravenous beast who’d not eaten in so long, just finding their prey. 

Alexis realized she would be the prey for this hungry wolf. “Erik, I told you why! I told you--” Erik shut her up quickly, pulling out a knife and holding it to her neck. He forced her behind another building where not a soul could see, nor would they dare follow. 

Erik forced her to the ground, an awful grin spread across his face that revealed all his teeth. He shoved his meaty forearm against her throat. She could barely breathe. His knife dragged down and cut away her robes, through her underclothing. The tiny blade dropped a couple inches above her head. Where he could see the temptation in her to grab it, but he’d be too quick for her.

One sweating hand ran down her breast, squeezing it so tightly she cried out--or tried to. His forearm prevented anything beyond a strangled croak. That same hand squeezed again. A cruel grin spread across his face. She’d be shaking now, if she could move at all. His hand made a filthy trail down her body, down to her waistband. He hooked one finger on both pants and undergarments, yanking down with such fierceness that both materials went down with a loud ripping noise. 

“You’ll take me, and you’ll take me as many times as I feel like.” He jammed his thumb inside, molesting her. She’d waited for whomever she would marry to take her, not wait for her to be violated by someone she thought she trusted. She wanted her sisters, her brother, the man who raised her as his own, to help her from this awful awful feeling.

Erik added more of his fingers, the feeling worsening as she felt stretched, crushed, claustrophobic, like too many people had entered the Cathedral crying out for their wrongdoings to be pardoned, to be blessed, to asked for children or something else. But it was nothing like that, not this Light-awful feeling. Eventually, his whole fist fit in there. He kept it moving in some unholy way that she’d not thought existed. But it did. 

Something wet trickled out. No, it couldn’t be her bleeding. That had passed already. This--Erik had done something with his hand to make her bleed. He removed his hand. Even though he removed it slowly, it still hurt so badly. Tears were leaking from her eyes. If this was what Erik had aimed to do, to make her cry in pain, he succeeded. The cruel, awful man she once called a friend succeeded in making her feel reduced to nothing. 

He inserted his… other limb… in her. No. No, no, no. This could not be real. This had to be a dream. Everything about this seemed so, so unreal that it had to be fake and an awful figment of imagination. Why would Erik do this? They were friends. They were such good friends once… 

_“LASSAN AUS MIN, K’LAEN EN!”_ cried someone nearby. A savior, perhaps. But also possibly a simple adventurer. Erik stopped. He pushed himself up, an urgent and terrified look on his face. Good. Maybe he’d get something done to him that made him fear for everything in his body. 

The voice of another screaming, crying woman sounded from nearby. Not for her, then. Never would it be for her. The sickening sound of something wet splattered somewhere--whoever had screamed, they’d killed an attacker. Alexis dared a peek at who had done this, hoping they would come for her next. 

A night elven woman. Her amber eyes glazed over with anger as she turned and looked straight into Alexis’s own eyes. And then turned away. Why? The elf saw, looked straight into her eyes, and _turned away_. Damn her to as many hells possible. “Hugin,” the elf commanded, “Search around. I’ll meet you here whenever I’m done finding as many survivors as possible. I expect you to aid as many as you can.”

“Yes’m!” 

~~~~~

Taylande saw the woman, the fear, the hope, mingled in those eyes. They were too familiar. That damned gaze, and how the first person she’d seen with those eyes looked at her with such a hatred, such pain made her turn away in shame. Hugin would find that woman, help her. She knew he would. That’s why she told him to split up. 

She felt her guilt reaching down and rooting itself in place. Tay would let that linger, like she always did, even though she knew it would eventually bother her. It became her own fault that she dealt with all those bottled up emotions. But right now she had a job to do--find survivors in this sorry mess of a village and keep them safe from Twilight’s Hammer, direct them into groups together and make their way to a base camp nearby.

After this she’d drink herself into a stupor, she swore. Tay removed Ellemayne from its sheath, raising the blade up for her to inspect. She had slowly grown attached to this blade over the years she possessed it. Strangely enough, the blade would shift into a plain-looking dagger when it would be hanging from her belt. The looks on peoples’ faces when she pulled that dagger out were absolutely priceless. Now, she figured she could do the same to these Twilight assholes. 

“Where the hell are you assholes hiding,” she stated, switching back to her standard Darnassian. She tossed Ellemayne from hand to hand, finally settling it in her left. Tay could have easily used it in both hands, but had grown up being more proficient, more lethal, with her left. “Goddess, let’s hope I actually make it through this day.” Tay easily called upon Elune’s Fire to her right, thinking it to be armed and dangerous, using both hands instead of just one. 

The bright, white fire burned and flickered over her own hand. It burned so bright the ground ahead of her got illuminated in its fierce glow. It acted as a magical flare to melt away those hidden in the shadows. A small part of her pitied the assassins who thought they’d have the upper hand in this skirmish. Twilight lackeys, though, proved to be some of the biggest fools in the world. 

“Come out, come out, wherever you are you little assholes,” Tay taunted. She refused to switch to Common for them to understand. An arrow flew out from nowhere, followed by a fire she barely managed to dodge. That flame singed the bottom of her robes, slowly eating it up. Thankfully she’d chosen to wear some pants that day, along with a pair of old leather boots she’d, erm, ‘borrowed’ from the Alliance barracks before setting out. 

“Don’t burn my boots, ande rodne, iszera, xaxxas!” Tay spat. “I’ll get into shit with those annoying marshalls!” She began to mutter something else, shooting a small blast of the pure heavenly fire still perched on her hand like a songbird. It struck something, as whatever the flame hit grunting in pain and came rushing out with a sword draw.

Ellemayne already met the blade, hooking it to where the user would have to fight to get their weapon free. Tay’s free hand flew up onto their face as she hissed at them “Ishnu Elune, ande thero tor rifa ande ilisar!” The fool who rushed her screamed, the pain of the fire forcing them to loosen their grip just enough for her to yank down and disarm them. 

The moron fell at her feet, dead. “Well, I overdid that just a tad bit,” she sighed. She cast her eyes to see what manner of person hit her and found--an orc. That caused a grin to spread over her face. It always seemed to be orcs involved with every threat. Be it the Lich King, Illidan, whatever, there would always seem to be an orc or two hidden among those ranks. 

She turned, raising Ellemayne to meet the next cultist who came to fight. Ellemayne pointed at whatever Tay looked at as she turned in a circle to anticipate just how many Twilight’s Hammer would come after her. As she made another move to scan the area, she heard so many footsteps come at her from all directions but where she looked. Heavy thuds were among them, meaning they had ogres, too. 

Tay spun around-- 

Someone slammed into her so hard they both went rolling. Her grip on Ellemayne tightened enough to where whatever her knuckles hit, they busted open. She would _not_ lose this blade! She recalled that slip of paper she found with this blade, what it said. Tay still had that in her satchel, though the writing faded with the amount of times she pulled it out and read it, sometimes running a thumb or forefinger over the text. 

_The blade is Ellemayne. May it serve you well in all of your endeavors._

“What is your problem, Taylande?!” a woman hissed. “Do you want me to go to min’da and tell her I let you die _on my watch_?” 

“I don’t have a mother,” Tay grumbled, the sting of the woman’s words striking her core. How many women had she bedded that ran to their mothers about that awful thing of casting them out of her bed she’d done?

“Yes you do. You may not know her, you may not want to, but what of the woman who raised you? Is she not your mother?” 

“No. She’s my sister. And who the hell are you trying to tell me that my mother’d be worried? How the hell do you know my name, too?” 

“My name is Eraenia Mistdancer. My mother--or mothers, I should say--keep tabs on your sorry ass. The bad part about this is that they can’t watch you all the time and I’m stuck on temporary leave to keep you from getting killed.” The woman’s fierce eyes had that same silvery color that Nar’s did. Dusky, dull, but still beautiful. The shadows under them indicated she had lost some amounts of sleep due to what she did. 

Strands of her twilight blue hair fell into her face out from a ponytail, grimy and matted with dirt to cover up the color of it. Camouflage, most likely. Tay studied her face as much as she could before Eraenia turned away, pulling up a dark green hood that concealed her face. Tay didn’t get a good look at the markings tattooed on her face. The former yanked the latter away, dragging her through some of the dried brambles that scattered the now desolated village. “What the hell do you do for a living? Stalk people and drab them through bushes?” 

“No. I’m a sentinel because it honors my mothers and their sacrifices. What do you do for a living? Kill psychos and teach Gilneans to be assholes?” Eraenia retorted angrily. “I kept you alive when you fell into that coma during the Third War. I’m not surprised you don’t recall me, but for now you’re going to help me with this mess. An elemental lord is back, so for now you’re helping me deal with this.”

Tay followed the woman, all the answers swimming around her head. Since when did Nar have a daughter? And with whom? She’d have a bone to pick when she saw her sister again. 

She also had to get rid of that guilt. She should have helped that woman, but she didn't...


	7. Orders

Eraenia sat restlessly, gaze wandering to this or that as she tried to stay patient for the next phase of the plan for Hyjal. She had been trained to wait still as a branch when it came to hunting, to scouting, to doing anything but waiting for orders. She asked herself just why in the world she kept watching over an ungrateful little… _brat_ of an elf. A sigh escaped her lips without any warning.

“You’re doing it because k’laen min’da asked you,” she whispered to herself. Eraenia stole a glance at her charge, who lay sprawled out on the ground nearby with a small line of drool trailing from her mouth. Good Goddess, the girl slept like the dead too, with a snore so loud Eraenia twitched from a paranoia that made her wonder if the enemy had found them. 

Hyjal’s trees in this southern area had burned up, offering little in the way of cover. This added to that paranoid feeling. If only Taylande would shut her snoring up. Eraenia’s eyes scanned back over to a well-hidden incline at the base of some hills. The burnt-out, hollow branches and trunks of those deadened trees would have once covered this path from the eyes, but now it no longer did any good. 

The dried up soil crunched underfoot whenever one chose to make their way across the land. It made spotting the untrained sneak too easy, even for an amatuer tracker. Skeletons of bushes lay atop this awful dirt, now more a fine charcoaled sand than dirt. Plants refused to grow down here, unlike at the base of Nordrassil, where life flourished as far as the eye could see. Looking up, one would only see the sky covered in dark clouds. All the work of the Twilight’s Hammer. They would pay.

Boots crunching along the path made Eraenia’s ears perk as she removed an arrow from the quiver that hung on her back. She stood as far up as she dared, nocking the arrow on the bow. Her grip on the handle tightened up while her other hand drew back, fletching close enough to where she could see each individual feather’s strands. Her breathing steadied as she focused her aim on the figure now standing at the foot of the trail. 

Faintly, her ears picked up chatter of someone relaying information. She stared at the figure she’d seen approaching, guessing this person to be a human, most likely male. Who he gave the information to, she couldn’t tell. Eraenia raised her eyes to hopefully pick out just who the hell thought they could escape her eye. She’d been trained by two of the most skilled people in the damned world. That were not Kyena Stormbow. 

Nobody could outmatch that woman. Every time she came by the house she lived in, she would stare at the woman. One of her mothers would tell her not to hide and stare, to come up and at least say a hello. She did, a couple of times. She always remained too shy. “Myn’ra, shal’nar Kyena, I’m going to take Raeni to her sister real quick,” her mother would always say. 

But today was not one of those days where she would shyly stare and wait. Today was the day she would be killing Twilight lackeys who had no idea the evil they worshipped. At this point, those fools were not people. It did not matter if they lived or if they died. The world, however, grew cleaner and cleaner with each Twilight death. She reminded herself before she chose to release the arrow. “These people are not people. They are monsters to be purged from kaldorei lands,” she whispered. Raeni lied to herself. 

The arrow flew. The human fell. The head pierced a vital organ, slaying that damned lackey instantly. Whatever other fool had been standing there stepped over the body, turning, getting onto a knee. They inspected the wound, which Raeni now saw to be through the man’s chest (good, she got his cold, dead heart) and stood back up. They turned, pulling off a hood. Her partner in crime. 

The other figure, her friend, her companion, her sister, gave her a thumbs-up. A grin plastered across the distant woman’s face as she pulled the hood back up, melting into the shadows again. Good. Their ruse still kept working. And the Twilight’s Hammer still remained too damned stupid to realize this plan had been set into motion. They still thought completely different people kept attacking at intervals. 

“Eraenia…” Tay grumbled, having just woken up. “Whas going on? How long’d I sleep?” She yawned, pushing herself up and rubbing her eyes. Raeni let out a quick “shh” which quieted her charge faster than she’d anticipated. Tay grunted weakly and she began to feel around for her daggers, wherever she’d placed them. Her hands ran over the bare ground multiple times before she gave up her attempts on finding Ellemayne and Silverblade.

Tay could do without Silverblade. After all, that one she owned. That one increased her fear of sleeping and losing it gave her the chance of starting over, but she felt so incredibly vulnerable and small without it. Ellemayne she did not own. She’d use it ‘til she found the original owner. Her father had stolen this blade. As strong as she felt with this blade on her, she knew that it was not hers. Tay would miss this blade, and also simply didn’t want to find the owner and explain she lost their weapon.

“The blade is Ellemayne. May it serve you well in all of your endeavors,” Tay muttered to herself. She finally pushed herself off the ground, grogginess slowly fading out of her sight. She blinked a few times, gaining her bearings. Her weapons lay just a couple feet away, next to Eraenia. Tay crawled over and grabbed Silverblade, tucking it into her belt as quick as she could. As soon as her hand wrapped around Ellemayne’s hilt, it changed from that simple-looking hunter’s dagger to the razor edged blue blade she’d grown familiar with.

“You talk about the Reaver, one of the Moon-blessed blades. Why?” Raeni inquired, shifting around and staring curiously at the latter of the two blades Tay possessed. Tay glanced down at it, a frown stretching across her face. She’d not heard of this story. Nar had mentioned two sister blades blessed by Elune Herself, but never their names or anything beyond the fact that they were legendary. 

“I don’t know what you mean. Here, you can look at it if you want,” Tay replied, hesitating as she handed it over. Raeni took the blade, both watching while the blade shifted into a simple seax knife, one most Sentinels had as a backup in case they lost their primary weapon. Tay’s eyes went wide and she stared, dumbstruck, that her seemingly unassuming blade had changed forms when it changed hands. 

“It is. Well, since min’da never told you the story, I guess I will,” Raeni stated, a smirk present on her face. She pulled her hood down, that dusk-blue hair out of its ponytail, barely even brushing Raeni’s shoulders. The underside of it, Tay now noticed, were shaved, as to provide a more effective way to intimidate the lesser folk. “I’d settle down for just a few minutes.” Raeni cleared her throat once. 

“Back before the Kaldorei Empire stretched across this world, when it barely started, there lived twin sisters, born to an unassuming mother. People were eager to get their names, since twins hardly ever were born to mothers. They shared one feature that set them apart from the average set: amber eyes. You, Taylande, know exactly why amber eyes were highly desired. And I hope you also know that’s a small part of why you have the memory of those beatings on you.”

Tay’s body tensed up. She’d ask Eraenia after this story. It bothered her, how someone else knew what she’d told so few about. But she sat, letting the woman continue on. “The peoples got the names of these twins, whom they all preached would be destined for greatness. Tor’landa and Lan’reli. Rauv’dris Tvaelin. Azshara called upon all willing to fight for their peoples against the trolls, who were invaders. That’s… not true, I’d think, as the only nation that existed was the Troll Nation. Ugh. Trolls. 

“Tor’landa and Lan’reli had two blades, one for each sister. Tor’landa carried a mighty sword into battle, while Lan’reli wielded a simple dagger to defend herself; the dagger you have now. Before they engaged in the major battles, I’m told, that the two sisters prayed to Elune to bless their weapons in the upcoming fights. The Goddess did more, taking these simple, elf-forged blades and reforging them into far more useful weapons.

“Different stories say different things. Some of them talk of the Goddess working day and night, postponing the battle while She toiled away to give the sisters that which would win their peoples their nation. Others say She came down here, placed some of Her own power in the weapons. And there’s also a good handful who just say the blades were blessed, no detail added. Believe any one of them. I think the first one is true, though. 

“These twin blades came to be known as Jai’alator, the Noble Blade of Elune, and Ellemayne, the Reaver. Tor’landa eventually was called the embodiment of the Night Warrior, Jai’alator the deadly instrument used to slay all who opposed her on the battlefield. Lan’reli was called the Mother Moon’s embodiment, since she preferred the more gentle arts of healing more than the fighting of her twin. 

“They were dubbed Moonblade, in honor of the Goddess blades that secured the kaldorei their empire. The peoples wanted them to rule, from the stories min’da told me. But it just might be some storytelling on her part. Tor’landa and Lan’reli declined, instead letting Azshara take the throne. We can see how that worked out. It’s why we’re stuck in a burnt-out crisp of a home and I’m telling you children’s stories.”

Tay sat for a moment and let all of the information sink in. She wielded one of the only two legendary Goddess blades, and the sister to it was most likely being used by one of Tor’landa’s line right now. But why, then, did she have Lan’reli’s blade when her descendants should be in possession of it? Her father had dared to steal away an ancestral dagger? Damn him. Now she really needed to return this blade.

Raeni grinned at her, nudging her head in the direction of the trail she’d been watching while her charge slept. She’d have as many words with her mother as possible once she got out of this hellhole. Which reminded her she should probably write her mothers when she got the chance. She’d not written either of them since--Raeni would sort that out later. When Tay wasn’t waist deep in shit. And when her mothers wouldn’t kill her for getting Tay killed. 

Their boots crunched against the ground, Raeni’s making hardly any noise. Tay, despite being trained to keep quiet in nearly any situation, could be heard a mile away. The senior of the two women shot back a glare, one sign to keep the noise down lest they be spotted and captured by psychotic cultists. Tay made her footfalls lighter, matching the Sentinel’s in noise. This would not be one of her normal missions. Not when a damned sentinel dragged her along.

“You missed the one I shot earlier. He didn’t even see it coming,” Raeni said, breaking the silence, “And I thought, from all that min’da told me, you would be one for kicking the shit out of cultists.” 

“Well, I can’t do things my way when some stranger I hardly know barrels into me and says they’re going to be traipsing around the mountain with orders from Nar, who I haven’t seen in well over two hundred years.” Tay made sure to keep her voice down in case more of the Twilight lackeys were lingering about, hoping to get some kind of information. She reminded herself to switch into her standard Darnassian and ask about how the sentinel knew about her scars. 

Before she’d had the chance to ask, she had the misfortune of being tackled to the ground. Tay struggled to get up, Raeni rolling off her as they lay on their stomachs in the bushes. With a single hand, she got shoved to the ground by her mysterious protector. She tried getting up again, another hard shove she caught unprepared knocking the wind out of her. 

She took in short breaths, trying to take in some air before she got shut up again. She watched Raeni’s hand fly down to her belt, removing a dagger that looked like it could be used to slice bread one moment and kill a man the next. Tay eyed the weapon with a slight fear. Mimicking Raeni, she reached down and wrapped her hand around Ellemayne, the blade shifting into that all-too-comfortable razor edge. A grin spread across her face as she felt that calm and relaxation when she held onto something that she knew like the scars on her back. 

Voices came down the trail while they waited, Raeni carefully and noiselessly drawing back her hand. Tay knew exactly what these voices meant, and they were either allies or potential enemies. 

“What do you mean, you don’t know where the damned elf went? How can you not?! She’s seven Light-damned feet tall, Bishopp!” a man screamed. He had a Stormwinder’s accent.

“In my shan’do’s defense, she tends to contribute a lot in these wars in her own way, with her own insane plan of ‘rush it’. I’d say give her as much time as she needs in here, since we apparently can’t keep elemental lords in their own domain! Leave her here ‘til the damned Firelord’s not trying to kill us all and--”

“Your teacher, Hugin, _took my wife_. That knife-eared bastard is why my wife, and my child, are rotting at the bottom of the fucking sea! I don’t care if she helps, if she lives, I don’t care much about what she does. The reason I want her is to kick her ass. This fake leg’ll be good to beat her with.” 

Tay’s gut tightened and her eyes went wide. Hugin and Ivan. Oh, Goddess she hoped Hugin would be smart and keep leading the man off-topic. She ruined that man and she ruined nearly everyone in her old unit. Hell, the only one she hadn’t fucked up somehow was Torrolf. She just wanted to drink him under the table. But no. Those days were gone, him and Aeva sent up to the Highlands to deal with Twilight’s Hammer. Ivan still recovering from his loss of a leg, he couldn’t even serve. Royce--oh, Elune, Royce. Tay killed her. Tay killed her all because she bedded her when she knew she shouldn’t have and damn herself for it. 

Her expression contorted into one of fear and loathing. Raeni looked over, whispering so only she could hear. “What’s wrong, Taylande?” 

“Nothing. Just go back to what we’re doing,” she murmured. 

The two men continued to argue, finally making their way down and out of range of the two females waiting in cover. Soon as they were out of earshot, Raeni stood up and briskly marched up the hill. They could see Nordrassil from here, but were located somewhere near a shrine to one of the ancient demigods. 

Tay had read plenty of stories regarding the demigods and how they came to aid in the defense of this world against the Burning Legion. She hoped to meet one, back before she realized the only people who had the pleasure of meeting them were druids and the most famous of the famous legends. Like the Moonblades. 

She followed the sentinel up the hill a few feet farther, closer to a couple of burnt trees for who knows what reason. When the woman stopped, Tay nearly walked right into her because she kept staring up at the World Tree, feeling so small. 

“Tell me what’s wrong. What kept bothering you when you heard those two men?” Raeni persisted, worry in her eyes. 

“Bishopp is my apprentice. He’s looking for me, and so is Ivan. I--,” Tay muttered, casting her eyes down to the dirt road to try and answer the question, “Something happened that caused some bad blood to run between us.” Shame and guilt prickled all over her body. She lied. She remembered in full detail just what the hell she had done.

The eyes of the woman she could have saved came into mind, and she remembered how similar those eyes looked to Aeva’s. She destroyed that woman, then let the poor girl she could have saved get destroyed by someone else. Maybe those voices were right. Maybe all she could do was ruin, destroy. Maybe she was born to be a destroyer, in one way or another. 

Tay composed herself before she let all those bottled-up emotions spill out for everyone to see. “It’s in the past though. What I want right now is for you to tell me just how you know about what the fuck Fanarol did to me!” she spat, poison seeping into her tone. 

“Who do you think gave your savior information on where you were when that all happened?” Raeni retorted, monotone. 

She stayed quiet, staring at the Sentinel with anger and hate burning in her eyes. Raeni turned on her heel, striding off with her head hung low. Tay followed, unsure if she should be grateful or angry at this new information.

~~~~~

For so many days that Tay lost track, they ran missions against the cultists as they slowly took them out while waiting for the fight against the Firelord to come. Every single mission, every time she went out on her own when she could, her heart pounded so loudly in her chest she thought this would be the reason she had to annihilate an entire camp of them. And possibly die. 

This time, Raeni crouched beside her, bow drawn and arrow at the ready. “They are people no longer, Taylande, not like you and I. Not when they fight to bring an end to everything. They are animals.” Tay eyed the sentinel, now understanding how she killed without any remorse. Perhaps using this approach would make her more effective. 

Raeni kept on lying to herself. No matter how many times she tried telling herself that these were not people, it wouldn’t work. These people had been mislead, gone so far now that they couldn’t get all that crap out of their head. She hated how she tried to make them out like they were nothing but monsters, rabid dogs to be put down. Her mother would get that way when it came to demons, or actual rabid animals that had no chance at being domesticated.

But never once at people. 

She bit back all that anger at herself, forcing her eyes to train themselves on a man. She realized how she had loosened her grip on the arrow, surprise briefly crossing her face. Raeni hardened her expression again, pulling back until she would release the arrow to let it find its mark. 

One arrow went flying, going through the neck of an outlying human. They saw all kinds of peoples within this group. It bothered Tay, how this many people from so many different places could come and want to end their world. But now they would do what they could to keep this place clean of those who would do Hyjal and Nordrassil harm. 

As soon as she recovered her senses, Raeni already held another arrow in her hand. She placed it into position, drawing the string back. Tay watched her hold it in place, waiting for a signal for her to run in and cause some problems. Today would be different, because as soon as she moved in the sentinel would run in after her. 

Five minutes passed. Two arrows. Five more minutes. Two more arrows. By now, the cultists were noticing. Anger surged up in Tay and she began her advance. She palmed Ellemayne in her left while she channeled Elune’s Fire in her right. A grin spread across her face as she strode in, putting on that cocky mask of hers. 

“Today’s not gonna be a great day,” she muttered to herself. These were people. No matter what Raeni said, the cultists were still people. Misguided, but still. Part of her would regret this, but part of her would savor it. She blocked off her emotions. They’d get in the way. 

She waited and waited for any one of them to come at her. In moments, three came after her. A blade came slashing down on her as she parried quickly with Ellemayne. She sent a foot towards one male, hitting his less desirable area. The third one she would have problems with. The damned human lady stood as tall as some of them men, but Tay still had a foot on her. She had a damned battle axe on her, making the situation even worse. 

Tay sent out a stream of Elune’s Fire as the woman raised the axe and swung it with as much strength possible. She jumped out of the way, ramming and elbow into the first one. She’d not be able to deal with these two. Dealing too much in her more rogue-ish skills caused her to lose some touch with her normal tactics. More came. 

Paying too much attention to the ones in front of her left her back vulnerable. Something hard and heavy slammed into her back, knocking the wind out of her. Tay’s breathing sped up as she rolled onto her back, slicing at whatever legs she saw. They’d underestimated the amount of cultists here. 

Feet slammed into her sides, preventing her from trying to hamstring any one of them again. Pain seared through her body, especially in her ribs. Dammit. If Raeni would jump in whenever, they might have a chance. Tay spat at one of them, earning her another hard kick in the side. The feet subsided and she pulled herself up, biting back any sounds of pain to deny them any pleasure. 

Tay saw around seven of them. No, they’d not underestimated. These assholes were just strong. Strong and uglier than the burned trees. Raeni fired an arrow through the skull of one of them, bumping their numbers down by one. Tay growled and began a quiet prayer. Even though her path seemed to require prayers more than anything else, she never did quite find time for it. 

“Goddess help me right now,” she muttered, channeling the Goddess’s holy flames and sending it towards one of them. Tay rushed at another one. Ellemayne ripped into the orc’s stomach, dragging through and leaving a wide slice for all his organs to spill out. She got swarmed, slamming fists here or there and jamming her blade wherever it would fit. 

Soon, Raeni pulled out her weapons as she cast her bow off. Her expression remained neutral during the whole ordeal, and she rammed her blade into the injured to keep them from killing Tay. Her mothers never said anything about injured. They’d all had their fair share of scars and bruises. 

Four were down already. The remaining three scattered. Tay hugged her sides, not bothering to sheath her weapon. She limped to the bodies, making sure each actually was just a corpse now and not one lying in wait. Raeni did the same, her face still expressionless.

“I’m still wondering why I didn’t run away from you when I had the chance, you know,” she said, trying to break the silence that permeated the air like a sickness. 

“Mmh. Possibly because I mentioned min’da,” Eraenia deadpanned.

Tay trudged around in a circle, thinking it would be a distraction from all the pain that drummed against her ribs, her chest, her head. Goddess, she’d taken a beating. The last time she’d endured anything similar to this… well, when her father would take out just about everything on her. Those scars he gave her would never go away. 

A dirtied hand stretched out lay on the ground near her right leg. One jagged, broken, and rustied dagger rested just an inch out of reach. The owner of the hand stretched out, grasping it like their life depended on it. They weakly raised their hand, jamming it in the inner side of the elf’s leg and ripping downward. Tay cried out, bent over and clasping her leg tightly. She quickly grabbed Ellemayne and stabbed the head. 

“Taylande! Sit down so I can see the wound,” Eraenia commanded. Tay lowered herself to the ground, putting as much pressure on it as she could. Raeni jogged over, stopping when she reached her charge and got onto her knees, pulling torn and bloodied fabric away. 

“It’s bad, isn’t it? Let me just heal as much as I can and you can do whatever later,” Tay managed through clenched teeth. She’d beat herself up later for that one little cultist being allowed to slip through her field of vision. But that person was only a person, doing what they believed in doing. No matter how many times she reminded herself of it, she’d just beat herself up over this. 

“Yes, it is bad. It could get infected.” Raeni poked once at the wound, pulling a grunt of pain from Tay. Her ward could close up most of it, just not all. 

Tay inhaled and exhaled slowly, lips moving in a silent prayer. She placed one hand over her calf, where most of the damaged occurred. Another scar to add to her collection. A small light seemed to radiate from her hand as she ran it slowly over the length of the injury. Most of what looked awful to the eyes now looked like raw skin. But her ankle still bled.

“You’re going to have to cauterize this damned thing aren’t you?” Tay asked, this time with only a trace of pain. Raeni nodded once, wrapping a cloth around it for her and Tay to limp back to their camp. There she could start a fire and have fewer questions. She tried to control the rest of the pain in her body, concentrating only on making it back with Raeni for her to burn the rest of this damned pain closed.

They made slower than normal progress. Tay limped as fast as she could back to where they needed to go. Once they reached their destination, five minutes were used to start the fire. Raeni removed her dagger, placing half of it in the flames as she waited for it to heat up. Tay watched the blade heat up. Eventually, Raeni removed it and pressed the red-hot weapon over her ankle. 

“Goddess! Why’s the burning always the least painful part compared to the rest of it,” she grunted. Tay could easily answer that question. Because as a child she’d grown used to the pain of the hot metal on her body, because the beatings were always so strong. Because she should’ve been dead, but something had kept her running and she never understood why. Possibly because Elune had plans for her. 

“Yes, yes, Taylande, it hurts. You’ll be staying in Darnassus ‘til the rest of you is recovered. You don’t leave to fight until everything’s gone.” Raeni had lines of worry stretched on her face.

“Let me guess, you’ll be escorting me there, too, because Nar demands it?” 

“No. This I’ll be doing because it would make me feel better knowing you don’t sneak away.” 

“Dammit all, fine,” she sighed, glancing down at her still-pained ankle. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The bandages on her hand got removed for a new salve coating and wrap. Nash had extracted as many details as possible about what had gone on to cause that burn on her ankle. Tay, naturally, tried to avoid telling him about it. He somehow weaseled his way into getting her to give the whole story, not the omitted version of it.

Part of her felt better about finally getting over her habit of lying. She’d finally told the truth about Jaron. She told him the truth about Elariel. And he still stayed. He stayed and tried to make sure she’d be okay. It felt good, having someone actually care. 

“Thank you,” Nash stated, “for telling me. Even if you kept trying to distract yourself and spent a good three days telling me.”

Tay grinned at him, casting a glance down at her hand. She hoped the cuts and marks where the vase bits had been would heal up quick. She’d need it, if the military would be giving her orders. And hell, she thought she had made it clear that she wouldn’t join their asses again. But Draenor had happened. Garrosh had happened. And Garrosh had been killed. She could have left them if she wanted, but that sense of serving had kept tugging at her. 

If she recalled correctly, Ivan had said he’d been in Lor’danel for a month until he would be departing. But if she went with him, he would drag her straight back to them. She could wait. She’d pay a local mage who’d been to Stormwind enough for them to eat for a month. Nash knew this. It should have said so in the letter he’d been given. 

“Shit. I’ve got to see if there’s a mage in Lor’danel,” Tay groaned. She didn’t want to leave. No, not at all. Even if it meant she’d be in more trouble the next time she went to that stone city. 

“You’re going to go now?” Nash sounded surprised, a slight edge in his voice. As much as she loved that druid, she’d never understand why he always sounded like this whenever she left. Hell, she still couldn’t get over the fact that he decided to help her sorry ass after she went and played games with his heart. 

“Yes, because if I don’t, my superiors will be pissed and I’ll probably be sent to the farthest reaches of Nagrand again.” Tay made a disgusted noise at the thought of going to that strange place. The last time they told her that she’d be serving a tour in this new place, they told her the commander she’d report to needed more men in that orc-infested place.

“Since you are, you should probably read what else came with that letter. They’ve officially discharged me from service, so says Aeva. She wrote you something.” Nash went over to the envelope had a flap peeled up. The wax seal on it had been broken off, most of it residing on the lower half of it. He removed two slips of paper from it, glancing at which one was directed to him and which one to his lover. Nash placed one of them down, opening the letter still in his hand and handing it to Tay. 

Her eyes skimmed over it once, twice, before she finally read the whole thing. 

_Tay,_  
_I hope this letter finds its way to your hands. A little while after I had been deployed to the Highlands, I decided I’d write you… something._

_I understand if you have any feelings of resentment, as we have both caused bad blood to run between us in the past. Things happened that will never be mended no matter what happens. We both contributed to it, and I know we both know this, no matter what it is Torrolf keeps insisting. I still care for you, but I’m not sure in what way._

_Those heated nights we had, when we would fight, when we would reconcile with a drink and a laugh, I miss those. I miss_ you, _Tay. You may not feel the same way as I do, but just know these things. I want to be your friend again. Just that much, at least._

_If you’re able to, if you’re reading this, meet me at the Slaughtered Lamb in Stormwind. I've spent nearly all my nights there since our unit was split apart. Oftentimes, I find myself staring at a mug of ale, as similar to Torrolf’s old brew as they can get, and asking myself how to start saying my apologies. I feel that I’m ready to start them._

_You may not be alive or wanting to see me, but do visit me somehow. Just once. I have things I desperately want to tell you in person. You’re the last one I have left, so please, this once, just be alive for me._

_**Ama noral’arkhana,  
Aeva** _

“She still signs her letters with ‘saved by magic’. Back when I played showoff and Ivan’s magic saved us from being bugfeed,” Tay said, laughing afterwards.

“You don’t need to remind me. I was there. You really did make a show of trying to get her into bed with you,” Nash reminded her. When he spoke to his sister after the Alliance campaign in Silithus, she asked him about that. Lele had asked him if he liked that his now-lover was getting into other people’s trousers. He’d only said he liked her being happy. 

Lele always seemed to know how he felt about matters, even when he himself did not. It’s what he always appreciated most about his little sister, how she could read his thoughts. If only she’d not thrown a fit and stormed out on him, she would have been here and made a quip about him and Tay. He wouldn’t go with her, no matter how many times he begged Tay to let him tag along for this. When she went, he’d go out to reconcile with his sister. Or, he’d try, anyways.


	8. Pandaria

Tay arrived in Stormwind within the week. She’d told Nashathel she should be back in a couple of weeks. Thankfully, she had been wrong and spent more than her estimated time at Nash’s, as Ivan was nowhere in sight when she walked back to Lor’danel to take a portal and not a boat to Stormwind. Boats took too long, and after Royce she would panic if she even got near one of those damned things. She’d ride one when she had to, only then. 

Her first stop, she determined, would be the Slaughtered Lamb to see if Aeva said she’d be there since their unit split, and since Tay left the military. But she had to reconcile with Aeva, see if the paladin had moved onto a better woman. She didn’t want to face her old comrade if she’d not recovered from the wounds Tay had left her with when she departed. 

She shouldered open the door to the musty tavern, scanning around the vicinity to try and spot the paladin. Her eyes landed on the corner where a woman hunched over a mug of ale sat. The woman had a dented old sword strapped to her back and sat in the normal commoner’s clothings with a pair of military-issue boots on her feet. Aeva. Tay still knew her old comrade too well to not recognize her in a public setting. 

Tay didn’t bother with that cocky mask anymore. She cast it off when she left the Alliance’s service. She hated serving them after they tried to say what they did in the northern part of Pandaria had been for a greater cause. As far as she knew, slavery would never be part of a “greater cause”. 

“Taylande Silverblade, my old lover. Or is it Moonblade now? You’ve changed since I last saw you. Your hair’s not long anymore,” Aeva greeted as Tay slid into the chair across her. The back of her neck tingled at the use of her full name. Only her mother called her that, no one else. And her mother had died months ago. Why she even kept the journal full of her history she had no clue, but her mother had once asked to be filled in on what happened to her. She assumed a sense of honoring the promise kept her from tossing it out, but she’d never truly know. 

Tay smirked at the paladin, trying to cover up her own discomfort. She pointed at Aeva’s hair. “And your hair’s shorter since the last time I saw you, old friend.” Aeva snorted, clenching her fist around the mug. She raised it to her lips, taking a long drink. Tay’s eyes lingered on those lips. 

She remembered how she’d once kissed those lips. It seemed so very long ago. But the last time she’d been with Aeva had been during an interlude when her old organization, the Dawn, hadn’t a single thing that demanded her attention. Tay, during that week, had her own time to do whatever it was she pleased. And she’d chosen to see Aeva, bed her once again and break her heart once more the next day.   
Aeva glared at her now, eyes narrowing. “Moonblade or Silverblade? Which is it? I need to know this so I can address you properly if we remain as allies.” Allies. Not friends, not casual acquaintances. But allies. A wise choice of words, Ivan would have been whispering in his little sister’s ear. Ivan could burn in whatever hell he’d go to. 

“I- It’s just Tay now. I stopped going by Silverblade because that name got tarnished for me. So I would assume that yes, it is Moonblade now. What’ve you asked me here for? I’m close to getting my ass handed to by military officials,” Tay replied. Aeva gave her a stern look that had once meant something to her, but not anymore. She only wanted to be casual acquaintances with the human now. 

“To find out just why you left in the first place, Taylande Moonblade.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Damn Eraenia for making her stay out of commission. Damn Eraenia for causing her to nearly miss striding into those Firelands and dealing with the damned elemental lord Ragnaros. Damn Eraenia. But she had her orders. Her orders were to recover before doing anything else that might cost her her life. She obeyed only because it meant her sister, Nar, still lived and was keeping tabs on her. 

She missed Nar. Her elder sister had been the only one who tried keeping her safe by whatever means necessary. But then Nar left. She’d planned to see her again, ask just why she left. Why her sister left without any explanation, stranding her at the temple in Winterspring. _No,_ she scolded herself. _Winterspring is home._

Perhaps, when she met with her elder sister again, it would be at home. She could hardly call Ashenvale that, after what her father had put her through. Winterspring she could call home because her sister brought her up there, taught her what she needed to know to survive. After what Nar had taught her, surviving became as easy and familiar to her as counting the seconds between when she carved off her father’s face. 

“Tay, shan’do. I’ve come to get my orders from you. What do you need from me during this?” her apprentice asked, his tone stiff and formal. Hugin had been distancing himself, spending more and more time at the Temple in Darnassus than anywhere else. Tay blamed herself for it. He’d raised hell to her after she’d been stuck in Raeni’s home for a few weeks. She knew she should have helped that woman. The guilt still gnawed at her.

Tay glared out over the seas as she stood near the ship’s edge, raising a skin of ale she’d smuggled with her and taking a swig out of it. So much mist, as far as one could see, covered the waters. When her apprentice interrupted her thoughts, she had been dragged back to the present, as her thoughts were scattered elsewhere. She just wanted to focus on the water and mist. Not deal with him and his burning glare. 

She didn’t want to get involved with his training anymore. She didn’t want to get involved with anyone or anything now. She just wanted to sit and drink herself as far into a stupor it took to get rid of that damned guilt. If it took her supply of the ale, she’d drink it all. If it took her a single skin, she’d drink more. If it took her a whole Goddess-damned reeking tavern, she’d drink it dry. As long as that guilt went away with it.

“Shan’do.”

“Hugin.”

“My orders.”

“Do whatever the fuck it is the oh, so, high-and-mighty commander says. If he says fight the first Horde you see, fight the first Horde you see. If he says shove a branch up your ass and fuck it, do it.”

“Fine.”

Tay stood there for a while longer, drinking. And drinking. And drinking. She drained each skin of ale she had on her, casting them off her person as she stumbled to her tiny room. A cot so small her feet hung over the edge and a couple of shelves below it to store her things. That’s all her room consisted of, and it smelled of piss and blood, none of it hers.  

A sudden rattling of the ship caused her to fall out of the cot, slamming hard onto the floor. She’d throw the fool who fired a cannon off this thing once she found him. And then another noise came. But this time, it rocked the ship. Screaming followed. 

Tay’s eyes narrowed into a glower, hand immediately going to the blade at her side. She stalked up deck to see what had caused this, when another cannon fire went off. As a receiving splash sounded not too far away from the ship, she began her sprint upstairs to see just what had gone on. 

The worst-case, she determined, would be some unknown threat that wasn’t the Horde firing on them. The best-case for her would be the Horde. She’d rather deal with that than Hugin, who had kept side-eyeing her with a mix of emotions. If she ever got a moment of peace and quiet, she would make sure to say something to her apprentice. And, perhaps, try to get a letter to her sister, if she could. 

For right now, however, she remained focused on figuring out who could be attacking. She sincerely hoped it would be the Horde. Tay stumbled around, trying in vain to focus on where to go. She shouldn’t’ve been drinking, she knew. It could possibly get her written up. Again. Hell, if she did get that again maybe they’d finally kick her pathetic ass out of the service. 

She stumbled around a few more steps, finding the pathway that led straight to the main deck of the ship she’d been stuck on. Tay gripped whatever she could as she made her way up, explosions from this or that rocking the boat and nearly throwing her to the ground. Hopefully, this time she didn’t misplace a blade when it came time to fight. 

“Shan’do, run!” Hugin screeched, shifting into a more wolven-looking form. Tay had completely forgotten her apprentice had the Curse since he always tried to remain in his human body whenever possible. Men streamed down below to man as many of the cannons they hauled. Tay made the mistake of looking up, seeing a Horde gunship. 

The gunship flying above readied another projectile, aiming at the hull of the ship. Something inside, most likely the constant voices that tormented her, told her to dive off the ship and swim for land. She didn’t listen. Instead, she made sure to look for her apprentice and anyone else who might be in the most serious trouble.

The Horde fired. 

Tay sprinted towards Hugin, barrelling into him which perhaps saved his life. Afterwards, everything became a haze of blue, fish, and air bubbles rushing to the surface.

~~~~~

“Get everyone to that structure ASAP!” cried a man.

“But sir, the injured--” a draenei, by the sound of the voice, pleaded but got cut short.

“We will tend to them when we are safe from the filthy Horde! Now _move_!” 

Tay felt something jostle her as whatever it was picked up the pace. She didn’t dare open her eyes. Everything in her screamed like she would if she’d branded by her father again. Whatever happened after the Horde fired, she didn’t remember. She didn’t want to remember. She just wanted to forget and go on with ruining her life. 

Somebody said something, but she didn’t catch what had been spoken. Her father would beat her if she didn’t listen and repeat what he had said. She still felt that fear surge up inside when she heard any mention of him; however, even thinking of him caused it. Even though Tay had carved off a good piece of him and repeated it when Nar caught him in the woods once, that fear would linger and warp itself into an intense anger. If, perhaps, she’d not been so damned weak.

Another jostle and she found herself coughing and without breath left in her. Whoever--or whatever--carried her had been a bit too rough at the moment. Why did they drag her body with them? She would only become counted as another casualty. She refused to be counted as so again, like last campaign. 

“Apologies, Shan’do,” mumbled a rough, husky voice. She felt herself fall back unconscious. Being awake right now took too much--

“ALL HALT!” the voice cried. “Deposit the injured here. Those able to will trek farther into this… place… whatever it is.”

Her eyes peeled open. Hugin, in his worgen form, hovered over her as he laid her onto the ground. His brow furrowed as he gave Tay a once-over and raised his snout to sniff the air around them. He loosed a low growl, raising a clawed paw to fend off any unwanted visitor--or attacker. 

“Hugin… the hell happened?” she rasped. 

Her apprentice shushed her quickly, raising his head and scanning the area. “Hugin. Tell. Me,” Tay demanded, watching him closely. She saw him swallow nervously. She glared, the expression intensifying with the time Hugin wasted to stall from giving her any answers. “You will tell me.”

“Can’t.”

“Why? You’re my apprentice and do what I say!” 

“Don’t know how to tell you, Shan’do. Too much went on after you tackled me.” Tay glared again, shoving herself up and giving the area a once-over. Hugin shyly lowered his head, pivoting to steal a glance at where his mentor might possibly be staring off at. He wasn’t lying to her, that’s for sure, but he still felt that way. A twinge of guilt poked at him.

Tay shoved herself off the ground, groaning a little. What happened? Why did she feel so weak? She’d be having words with her apprentice after this. Damn that commander for having her go out here and fucking her up. Perhaps she would have some words with him after this mess got sorted out. For now, she needed to recover before running off and disobeying orders again.

She gave Hugin a warning look to not stop her, whatever she planned on doing. Tay held back a smirk as she strode off to find the commander of this damned operation. That must have almost gotten her killed. Lovely, a human almost killing her! Where had she heard _that_ before? 

A soldier ran up to her, motioning to follow them wherever. This soldier, however, looked familiar. Like she had seen them somewhere before. But it didn’t matter, not at all. Every single one simply followed their orders like mindless drudges forever enslaved. She followed, more reluctant to do so than most others would be. 

“The commanding officer, Doren, would like to see you, Master Sergeant,” the soldier monotoned. Tay had been swiftly reminded of her ranking, and the soldier most likely did it on purpose. To remind her she would always be obligated to answer the calls of the officers. Tay reminded herself she’d now need to work hard so she didn’t have to answer the stupid humans. If experienced determined rank, she commanded them all. But then, her sister would command her. If Nar even served the Alliance today. 

Tay made sure to not step on the human’s boots, taking note of their clothing and how it didn’t shine in the warm sunlight like the rest of the soldiers’. Only plate and chain did that, give off that gleam. This human wore either leather or cloth. She leaned forward a tad, taking in a quick whiff of them. 

Her eyes widened as she realized this human didn’t exactly fall into the “human” category. How had she not noticed before? That had been the first thing she’d gathered on her apprentice had been the doggish smell of him. She assumed she lost a bit of her touch on that, after drinking too much. How her fath--no, Fanarol--would beat her for doing so. 

Oh well. As long as it meant she lost connection with him, she’d be happy to drink ‘til she forgot. And hopefully that would be soon. 

“We’ve arrived…” the soldier stopped, turning and giving Tay a rather feline smirk. The soldier’s kind always acted more wolfish, most disliking cats to an extent. Another off thing about this soldier. Tay made a mental note to watch this one. Then, the soldier picked up her sentence again, “By your leave, _Silverblade_.”

Tay eyed her strangely. “Shaha lor’ma. Ande’thoras’ethil, lahkos’min.”  She turned around, seeming to feel the eyes of the Gilnean on her. She tried to ignore it, striding cockily into Doren’s lounge. 

“You called for me?” she asked, placing a had reassuringly on whatever blade she’d stuck on her side for the mission. When she gripped the handle, her hand withdrew. That feeling she got when she held it came flooding through, but it seemed to be amplified. Something in this place did not feel right. 

“ _Sir_ ,” Doren hissed.

“I’m sorry?” she replied, though it sounded more like a challenge. Good.

“You will address me as ‘sir’, night elf. I want you to help ready this place for when the Horde attacks. The King would demand it if he were here,” he spat. 

“And you, _sir_ ,” Tay mocked, “will address me as kaldorei.”

Doren rose, trying to look tough compared to the elf opposite of him. He failed at looking intimidating, due to his soldier being over seven feet tall. He could pick out the elf trying not to laugh. “You’ve got your orders, kaldorei. Now GO!” 

Tay let out a bark of laughter, shrugging and spinning on her heel. She made sure to add a slight swagger to her walk just to anger Doren. She followed that same path the Gilnean forced her to follow, making her way back to her apprentice. 

“Hugin! Come here.” She noticed her apprentice remained within his wolven form, seated near the edge of the old fortress the shipful of soldiers had chosen to reside in. Hugin didn’t move, merely raised his head to gaze at her. “Hugin, even though he says to help build, I’m not doing it. Something’s not right about him.” 

Hugin’s eyes widened, even though he expected his mentor to disobey orders. “What will we be doing, then?” 

“Nothing, because I don’t feel like helping that ass.” 

~~~~~

An alarm sounded, calling for most everyone to report and prepare for an attack. “Great, there goes the rest of my night,” Tay grumbled, removing Silverblade and Ellemayne from their sheaths. She rushed over from where she and Hugin had been resting, whipping her head around to look for whatever damned orc had decided it’d be smart to fight them.

She sprinted to a small group of dwarves and human, all of them standing around trying to search for any Horde rushing them. A human aimed their bow at something moving nearby--

And was filled with bullets. Tay raised her head to the sky, seeing the gunship that had fired on their own vessel. She realized this had been why she had barely any recollection of what happened before reaching this abandoned fortress.

“Run,” she spat at the others. Tay made a beeline to find Hugin, who no doubt would be trying to heal the wounded. Why had she reminded him about that? No, that was selfish. She shouldn’t be that way, not in the middle of chaos. “HUGIN!” she screeched. Her main priority would always be those closest to her, and in that case, right now it was Hugin.

She kept running, dodging whenever a bullet trail made its way towards her. Hugin would not die this day. “Dammit Hugin, if I lose your ass to this I’m going to raise hell to you!” she muttered. Tay pushed herself to run faster, trying to pick out the worgen in the midst of the chaos happening in the area.

A nearby explosion sent some soldiers flying. Tay’s heart began to pump faster, forcing her to run, run until she found her apprentice. 

He stood just outside one of the barricades, healing one of the wounded. _The man didn’t have a selfish bone in his body_ , Tay mused. She began again at a sprint, hoping to keep him from the harm. Whatever fool tried to kill Hugin would be met with a rude awakening. 

Tay watched as a Horde spy snuck in, daggers raised, head straight for her apprentice. No. She had jinxed him. The spy’s daggers dug into the worgen’s back, pulling a screeching howl from him. She surged forward, summoning a huge bout of Elune’s Fire and slamming her blade into the spy’s side. She grinned, delighting in the revenge she dished out onto the bastard. 

~~~~~

Tay dragged Hugin through the woods, hoping to keep him out of the way. Thankfully, he had shifted back into his human form before losing all consciousness. She needed to keep him away from that now. Hugin couldn’t tough out as much as she could. As long as he stayed safe, she didn’t need to care about anything else. 

Other soldiers had fled in this direction. It only made sense for her to find them and keep him under watch in case anything else happened. She had healed him as best as she could before taking off. Hugin would have some lingering pains after that, but for now this was the best she could do after using most of her energy running and fighting. 

Perhaps camping out would be better. It would ensure they didn’t get caught in any more crossfire, but Hugin needed others to watch while she got forced to carry out orders before getting into more trouble with higher-ups in the military. She didn’t want to serve after that, but until the opportunity to resign arose, she had to. 

“Hugin, Hugin,” she whispered, gently shaking him. He didn’t respond, but Tay knew he lived. She heard his steady breathing. He’d not die this day. She should never have taken him on as her apprentice, what with all the havoc she got dragged into. And this havoc had resulted in him becoming one of the injured when it came time to count casualties. 

“Dammit,” she muttered, heaving him along to find wherever the others went. “I just need you safe, then we’ll be set. If you even have any damned family, I’ll be dead because I let you die.”

~~~~~

When she arrived, some other survivors came and took Hugin. Tay, once more, had been summoned to meet with Doren. Why had he survived? Wasn’t it a commanding officer’s duty to stay and fight beside his troops? Her stomach tied together into knots. Doren didn’t embody the Alliance’s ideals, and it became obvious by the fact that he’d lived.

When she arrived, Doren only smirked at her. “Good to see you still live, kaldorei. I heard about the unfortunate situation your worgen… companion,” Doren paused, emphasising the word, “and the situation he found himself in.” 

Tay glared. “He is my apprentice. There is nothing between us.” She kept the look up, trying to appear larger than this puny man. Which, for her, took no effort at all due to her height. She leaned forward on her heels just a tad bit, clenching her fist around one of her daggers. “Your orders for me, human.” 

“ _Sir_ ,” he hissed through clenched teeth. “You can help watch for any more Horde filth that tries to attack us. I have enough soldiers searching for natives. If there are any.” Doren pointed to the door, eyes narrowing as he waited for the kaldorei to leave his office. Tay gave him a sharp look, turning and storming out of the room. 

He waited a spell before exiting to retreat to a secluded cave he’d found not far from the small cluster of tents that served as their temporary base. The Horde would not find him. He would be safe, then report back to his king about the traitor elf that let most of their men die. If he did so, finally the Alliance would finally destroy the Horde. 

Doren would be a celebrated hero, then. If that damn elf would stop reappearing. 

Tay made her way to the medical tents to see just how her apprentice was faring. She’d make sure he got sent back to his new housing in Darnassus. The man, though more on the youthful side in human ages, had obviously been forced through some rather… tough situations that made him appear older than he seemed.

“How is he?” she asked one of the healers there. Tay pointed at Hugin for more clarification. 

“Still in need of rest, Master Sergeant Silverblade,” the healer answered. “Is he required for some task? If so, Captain Doren can wait.” The healer gave her a stern look, about ready to see her out of the tent to allow Hugin rest.

“No… No, not at all. I just want him sent back to Darnassus as soon as possible. That’s all I needed, healer. I’m stuck on watch in case you or him need to see me. Though, that’s doubtful. Farewell.”

Tay turned and left the tent, stuffing one hand into a pocket in hopes of finding one of her hidden daggers. She decided instead of watching, she would sit and sharpen her weapons. Whatever Doren planned, she hoped it failed, and that the Horde found him.

She stood where the watchmen were placed, only a short distance away from another one. Tay removed both a dagger and a whetstone from her inner pockets, beginning the sharpening process. If one of the others noticed and tried to stop her, she mentally rehearsed her reasonings for it. Being so loyal to the Alliance, she knew they’d understand moreso than Doren.

“Hey, elf! Your task is to keep you eyes peeled, not slack. I can report you for insubordination.”

Tay rolled her eyes, straightening her posture. “Would you rather me be fighting an intruder with dulled blades, soldier? Or do you think it’d be better for me to sharpen them now to be ready for later?” 

The soldier paused, then nodded for her to continue. He returned to his watch, making sure that what the elf said was true. Tay let a slight smirk come across her face, stealing a glance at the fellow every once in a while.

For hours, she kept up the sharpening, sometimes barely doing one and pulling it out later to make it seem like she had multiple blades hidden on her. In truth, she only had around four extras, in case her main two were shattered or lost. Ellemayne only needed a little bit of this, Silverblade requiring it more than the others. 

When she looked up, dusk had settled. Swinging her head backwards, she saw the shape of a worgen limping towards her among the other wider shapes of… bears? Were these the natives? And why did they carry wood along with them and let them drop to the ground ? 

“Shan’do. The healer told me how a group of soldiers came back with natives. The healer said Doren promised to help them build housing. I’m confused at how far apart they are setting the foundation. Perhaps speaking to one of them might help?” Hugin suggested. “Should I do so?” 

“No, Hugin. You’re still injured. I’ll do it. Just take a seat and run if any trouble starts up. No arguments,” Tay ordered. She strode up to one of the bear-people. Furbolgs, perhaps? She took note of the black and white patterns on the fur. 

“Greetings. Who might you be? A native of this land?” she asked. 

The bear-furbolg turned, giving her a non-hostile smile. “Yes. Pandaren. You are a… soldier?” it asked in broken Common.

“I am. Taylande Silverblade, at your service. And you?” she asked, giving the Pandaren a slight bow. 

“Tae-hyung, a strongman. A… pleasure,” he answered.

“Tie-heyung?” Tay asked, making sure her pronunciation was correct. The Pandaren nodded. “Thanks to you. Are there more of you coming than this small lot?” 

“Yes! Captain promised housing,” Tae-hyung said. Tay furrowed her brow briefly, already questioning what motive the Captain Doren had. Something bad would come of this, she predicted.

“I will leave you to your work, Tae-hyung.”

Over the next week, more of the pandaren flooded in to help build their housing. Tay watched them whenever she could, curious to learn more about their culture and the way they lived. She interacted with them before Doren assigned her to play watchman or scout, asking to be taught some of their language in exchange for them to learn more of the Common tongue. 

She started to notice how some of the smaller ones, their children most likely, lagged behind the others. Sometimes when one asked for some water, soldiers flat out ignore their requests. Tay made sure to give them some afterwards. She knew far too well how it felt to go without water for a long time. They didn’t need to know that. 

“HORDE INCOMING! RING THE ALARMS!” screeched someone. Tay reached into her pockets, removing Silverblade and Ellemayne. She motioned for Hugin to begin running and hide within the forests nearby. He refused, instead readying his staff and searching for those in need of help. 

“You really don’t understand how to be selfish, do you?” she muttered, watching as a Horde platoon ran forward and began slicing off… bonds on the pandaren’s legs. The Alliance was enslaving them. No wonder they received no water. The anger in her chest welled up, sending her to help the enemy. 

She sliced the ropes on those who had them, using her daggers to pry apart the metal chains binding their legs to a ball. After her time with Aeva, she knew a fair amount of Thalassian for it to be considered a second language. The woman always told her their mother knew it and taught all her children. 

Tay made her way to one of the Horde soldiers. A sin’dorei, no less. Immediately, she switched over to Thalassian. So they didn’t attack, she raised her hands in a gesture of peace. The sin’dorei lowered their blades, but only enough to not attack immediately. “Sin’dorei, I am not with them! Not anymore. This is not the Alliance I joined! If you find Doren, kill him and tell the survivors to inform the king of his defeat. I refuse to serve.” 

The sin’dorei had a look of surprise spread on their face, mostly due to hearing a kaldorei speaking their mother tongue. “I… yes, kaldorei.” 

Tay smirked at them. “Taylande Silverblade, mercenary for hire. I am not their dog.” She gave a mock bow, now so different from her stiff and formal one she gave to everyone. She continued her aiding of the natives until she found Hugin and had him follow her. If not serving meant she lost her apprentice, she knew he’d be better off without her. 

Everyone was. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“So you left us because you found out that we were having pandaren help us build a base and destroy the Horde for good?” Aeva asked, laughing incredulously. She raised the mug and took a swig larger than Tay ever remembered her ever daring to take. 

Then, she realized the paladin was drunk. She’d realized the reason Aeva knew of her Moonblade status had been because she made them change up her enlisted name to it after she had learned of how damned the Silverblade part of her was. Tay narrowed her eyes and stared at the woman, a mix of shock, disappointment, and horror all on her face at once. 

“As far as I recall, Petrovsky, enslaving the natives is not what this Alliance did whenever I first joined it.” Tay’s face became a mask of anger as she stared at her former squadmate and lover. Even if Aeva had been drunk, she never acted like this. She must’ve drank herself stupid every night she’d had off.

Aeva leaned forward, slamming the mug down on the table and roughly grabbing Tay’s shirt collar. She jolted the elf forward, hissing at her, “And as far as I recall, _Silverblade,_ being someone’s intended does not mean fuck your ex!” 

Tay flinched. She’d been trying to fix herself. She would try to make it right, even if it meant losing her old comrade. Tay stole a few glances around to make sure nobody overheard their heated chat. It did not seem that way. Good. Her former lover’s words hit her harder than she ever remembered them doing so. She had to leave.

“I’m… I’m going to go now. The last thing I need right now is getting court martialed due to offense on an officer.” Tay shoved herself up from the table, chair sliding backwards with a loud scrape on the wooden floors of the inn. Aeva glared daggers at the other woman. Her knuckles slowly turned whiter. A smirk spread across her face.

“Fare you well, backstabbing, knife-eared twat,” the paladin spat. Tay almost flinched. All she did was raise a hand in farewell, scanning the room and seeing some curious eyes turn their way. She knew Aeva to be correct. The woman hardly ever seemed to be wrong. 

“Silverblade got shattered. She doesn’t exist anymore.”

Tay exited the tavern, displeased and not daring to look back. She did not expect what she saw when she stepped outside.


	9. Report

Hugin had tracked his drunken mentor down after she went off into the woods in Pandaria. She had left him to his own devices after splitting from the military. He’d been told her resignation had been met with some anger and outrage, but overall accepted. Hugin had journeyed back to his homeland, spending a good majority of that trip there trying to recover any sort of memento of his family. Of his sister and his brother. He shoved those thoughts away, lest he have a breakdown in front of strangers in an unfamiliar city.

After an entire war and half of another one had passed Hugin decided it to be time to find out what happened to his mentor when he couldn’t find any of his family keepsakes. Even if his parents turned him onto the streets, he still cared for them. He traveled to Stormwind, this being one of the few times he’d set foot in the city. His first stop, he had decided, would be to one of the Mage Quarter’s taverns. The Blue Recluse yielded no results, one sympathetic patron directing him to a less… desirable tavern.

When he stopped outside of it, he saw why they called it a less desirable place. The exterior of it had an eerie look to it that sent chills down his spine. He smelled more of it with his worgen curse, that dank smell seeming to flood his nose. Why his mentor would go here, of all places, when the Recluse was only a short walk away--

“Shan’do Taylande,” he huffed in surprise.

“H… Hugin,” Tay croaked. She felt a weak smirk spread onto her face. Not once did she ever think her apprentice wanted to see her again. But here he stood. “I didn't think you even cared to drop by.”

He stepped forward, face twisting into a glare. “I have enough to say to you, shan’do. I’m pissed at you and care too much to see another friend of mine throw their damned life away. I need to talk to you about a lot of shit.” Hugin clenched his fist, taking a whiff of the air. His eyes widened slightly, fist loosening before finally tightening up again. 

Hugin raised his fist and punched out in a straight line. His arm remained bent at the elbow in case she tried snapping it the wrong way. Hugin’s fist connected with her jaw with enough force to leave a bruise. Tay didn’t bother to try dodging his throw. Hugin pulled his hand away, shaking his hand and nursing it in his left. “I’m surprised you’re sober this time, you arse,” Hugin quipped.

Tay’s hand flew up to her jaw, covering it while her face contorted in pain. She groaned but didn’t bother speaking. Hugin glared at her and she could see through her narrowed eyes. “Devurved ip, I knoh,” she forced out through the sharp pain. 

“Damn right you did. You were too damned drunk to talk about this. Do you know any Petrovskys? Because I met a gal with that surname in the wake of the Cataclysm,” he hissed. Tay nodded. “Good. Her name was Alexis Petrovsky. Half-elven gal in her mid-twenties. Prime of her life. Raped. Said you watched and did _nothing_! Is it true?”

Tay hesitated, rubbing her jaw a moment longer. She reluctantly pulled her hand down, the beginnings of a large bruise up the left side of her face easily visible. She didn’t answer, prompting her apprentice to take a deep breath, his normal signal for possibly changing to his more lupine shape. “Yes. I was engaged to her sister. You can guess the rest.” 

“Why didn’t you help the lass? She did nothing wrong to you, so why? I thought the Goddess smiled on those who aided others?” Hugin whined. 

Tay laughed bitterly. “You should probably know that the Goddess prefers throwing rocks at me while I try to run from them. I don’t know why I didn’t help.” She looked away, shame rising in her chest and tightening her lungs. 

“You of all people should know that nobody deserves that kind of trauma. I saw the marks on your back, shan’do, during the Landfall when you nearly--”

“We don’t talk about that.”

“But shan’do, I’m only saying that I saw them--”

“We don’t. Talk. About. That. Forget you ever brought it up, if you mention it to anyone I will make sure you don’t have a pleasant life. Enough people know already. I don’t need more. Just--just don’t, please, don’t.” 

Hugin’s glare softened. He had a neutral look on his face, then sighing and shaking his head. He decided to drop it, not bothering to ask any other questions about matters related to what he saw on her. “Tell me about what happened after you ran off, yeah?”

Tay chuckled weakly. “Fine. Only if I hear about you, but we need to make it quick. Walk with me ‘til we reach Stormwind Keep. One thing that happened is that they’re calling me back. They made me work during Draenor, after I had some… odd encounters during the Landfall issues up to the Draenor crap. I wrapped up my relations with old lovers. Alexis’s sister, Aeva, in particular.” 

He furrowed his brow, confused. As they walked, Hugin looked his mentor up and down to make sure nothing else seemed odd about her, aside from being sober. “That explains the reek of some dirt… is that smoked peacebloom? What the fuck, I thought you were clean?” 

“I only tried it. Hate it, don’t see how Nash smokes it,” she responded. 

“Oh, so that’s the bloke’s name? The one whose smell’s all over you? Goddess, you elves are bad about that. The ones in relationships. Finally met a gal, too. Gilnean, worgen, fine with my lack of, well, that kind of attraction. Don’t need it.”

Tay nodded. She had met some people who were like that, but didn’t think any differently of them. “Lucky woman, then. I assume you’re not planning on having a family any time soon?” she asked.

Hugin laughed, nearly walking into one of the trees planted to give the human city some greenery in the greys and browns and whatever strange color they decided to tile their roofs. “Not unless we’re both ready for it. She’s a good woman.” 

They spent the rest of their walk in silence. The feeling of their presence eased their consciences enough. Tay appreciated the fact that her apprentice knew when to quit talking and what to address. She’d have to cover up the bruise, though, lest she enter the military’s major building looking like she got into a fight. 

When they reached the Keep, Hugin paused. “So, I’m seeing your arse again, yeah? Can’t really say I like the idea of losing another close, erm, elf.” 

“Don’t worry, I plan to give you some hell later,” Tay laughed, wincing a little bit. She rubbed her jaw again. A dwarf dressed in golden armor, designed more for ceremony than for close quarters fighting, stormed forward and stared up at the two. 

“Oh, Torrolf. I didn’t recognize you underneath the clean armor and groomed beard,” Tay commented. 

“Shut up. C’mon. They already want’cher head. Git in ‘n’ give ‘em yer report on what’che did this past, uh, whatever time,” Torrolf droned, grabbing her right wrist and dragging her into the room. The dwarf led her down the long corridor leading to the Keep’s throne chamber, instead turning left. 

Inside, five people consisting of two dwarves and three humans sat at a table looking exhausted. One of the humans removed his eyes from whatever document rested on the tabletop. He blinked, snapping his fingers and causing the man next to him to pick up a writing utensil and everyone else to straighten up. 

“Silverblade. Moonblade. Whatever the hell you’re going by. Report, now. Nothing will get changed--”

“I thought I told you I resigned when you tried justifying the enslaving of natives during the Landfall campaign,” Tay hissed. She glared daggers, standing before them with her arms folded behind her back. “Since I keep hearing you’re going to be giving me something, it’ll be my last. Only this once, and it better not be something stupid.”

“Moonblade, give us your report. We have heard from a third party that you finally met your mother?” they asked.

“I refuse to tell that story. Everyone’s got one they won’t share. This is mine. Now let’s get this wrapped up, because I’m not stopping no matter how much you complain.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Silverblade got rammed farther into an eye socket than she’d thought it would go. The only problem would be pulling it out of the feral worgen’s eye before more decided to attack her. For whatever reason, the ones in Duskwood were getting increasingly agitated. Tay turned around, checking to make sure nobody behind her had been injured. She sure had, though not physically. She, if asked, joked her pride got hurt from helping a family travel from Redridge to Westfall. Even though she joked, it remained slightly true. 

“Sire, nobody is injured? None of the, erm, dorei?” she asked, struggling with the last word. The merchant she’d traveled the roads with gave her a strange look. Tay shook her head and sighed. “The smaller humans. The tiny things that take around twenty years to mature.” 

The merchant eyed the dead worgen closely, thinking it would twitch back to life any minute even though it had a blade enter its skull. “Y-you mean children, m-milady elf?” 

“Yes, whatever it is. Childeren. Common’s too clumsy of a speech. But are they alright?” she asked again. The merchant nodded once. He reached into a pocket and fished out a small sack of coins, holding it out for her to take and use however she pleased. His hand shook slightly, revealing with the quiet jingling to hold a lot of money. 

Tay stole a glance behind them, making sure the small stagecoach packed full of various wares remained undamaged. She caught a glance of one peeping child’s head as they stole a glance at what was going on outside. She didn’t blame them for wanting to know, since she herself as a child tried to steal away to discover more of way lay beyond the ominous woods surrounding her father’s house. Never would it be a home. Not in a thousand-thousand years.

“No. I told you, I’d escort you and only needed some meals. Keep the money. Besides, we’re just outside of Darkshire and it’s where I need to leave you at,” she responded. The merchant only stared at Tay with wide eyes, then shaking himself out of that small trance. He shoved the coins back into the pocket he’d removed them from, patting it a few times to reassure himself it was there and not disappearing immediately. 

As they made the last few steps into the small hamlet, they nodded each other a farewell. The merchant made his way to the blacksmithy and saw his elven escorter moving to the inn on the other side of the square. The striking of a hammer rang faintly outside of the doors as he paused, stealing another glance back to the inn. Something about that woman intrigued him. He turned back, shouldering open the door to the smithy and preparing his coin purse to buy some of the armors for later sale. 

He checked behind him as the door to the smithy stood open, seeing his stagecoach and children inside pulling over in between what he assumed to be the town hall and inn. They would be safe. His mind wandered over to the possible thought of the elf woman having a child and that’s perhaps why she agreed to travel with them through the expanse of gloomy, eerie forest south of Elwynn. 

He shrugged and made his way into the blacksmithy. Perhaps he’d find that elf another day.

Inside the musty inn, Tay made her way to the cowled figure tucked into a corner near the fireplace. She’d heard rumor of a mage in the town after being stuck moving through Westfall and then at Raven Hill. After enough traveling the Eastern Kingdoms, she had decided to return to the only place that felt like a home to her after the storm of events that seemed to catch her at every turn. 

She could have taken a boat, but after nearly drowning twice and causing the death of Royce and loss of Ivan’s leg, stepping on one tended to result in panicking and flashbacks to those awful days. Tay had to be drunk and stupid to get on one of those things. Most of the time, she was the former, which would have helped had she any coin to spend at reeking taverns. 

A mage seemed the better bet for her now. She would find one of those fellows and compensate them after a portal or get them drunk enough to conjure her a portal for free. Tonight seemed like she might have to resort to using the second of the two options until she could honestly obtain a portal here or there. Oh, if only she were a mage. But they caused the sundering of the world, from what she’d read, so she remained happy as what her father had made her into. 

“Whatever it is you do, kaldorei, your portal is free. No need to worry,” said the mage, whose voice sounded baritone. Tay gave them a curious look as she took her seat across from them. “But tell me, why are you all of a sudden going to Darnassus? Have you ever set foot in the city?” 

Tay’s hands, though they rested in her lap, moved to her blades carefully. This mage already seemed a bit too odd for her liking. They asked questions she didn’t want to explain, but she decided she’d humor them with the answers they sought. “Once, right before I got sent to the ass end of Azeroth. After Northrend I just never found time to go to Teldrassil, just Kalimdor’s various locations. I’ve decided to go to Darnassus to see the new Temple of Elune, possibly make a life there. I’m not too sure yet.” Tay lied about the first answer. The second was the truth.

She could have sworn the mage smirked under the hood they wore, hearing a small puff of breath from them. Something about this magus made her want to run as far away from them as possible. Perhaps even take a boat to Teldrassil. Tay chased those thoughts away, hoping to make some conversation with this fellow before getting possibly murdered by some demon in disguise that planned to possibly destroy the world.

“Who are you, dun’a en?” she questioned them. 

“What?” they asked. 

“Unknown other man. Whatever your title for unknown people is. Myster... y….”  Tay gritted her teeth and resisted the urge to slam her face on the nearest hard surface. She spoke too much in her native tongue since she began her traveling that she’d fallen out of practice with the common tongue. “I hate your language.” 

The mystery man (or woman with an exceptionally deep voice) laughed. They threw their head back in a violent manner, obviously entertained by the woman’s words. “That is… not what I meant, but I see why you call me that. You don’t know me. I’ve, well, heard of you. An Ivan Petrovsky has told me of you, due to Kirin Tor matters.” 

The grip Tay maintained on her blades tightened as she stared at this person. Their hood remained on their head despite the laughter, and a perpetual mask of darkness remained over the opening. This person, whoever they were, disturbed her enough to rely on both her blades. Perhaps even her own magical skills her elder sister taught her.

“Do not worry yourself. I only plan to open you a portal to Darnassus. I’m feeling generous tonight,” they answered. Tay’s grip only lessened slightly. She still had a bad feeling about this stranger. It could have just been her overreacting, or perhaps her own mind playing tricks that her father was out to get her again. She kept waiting for another attack. Her father hadn’t done this crap in some time, and it felt about the right moment for him to do so.

“Where do you wish to meet, then? For the portal, I mean,” Tay hastily added to the end. The mage raised their head to stare at the ceiling and pointed up. “Your room?” They nodded once. Something told her to be on her guard when she decided to arrive for her portal. Another part of her said to take the next damn boat to Darnassus instead of trusting this fellow. But nearly getting killed scared her less than riding a boat. 

Tay stayed in the main parts of the inn as the stranger made their way to the stairs. She watched them as they continued about their business. Not once did the cowl fall off their head or that black mask of nothing lift to reveal their face. She almost growled in frustration, but then recalled other patrons were seated within the room. 

Her hand went to the dagger hidden on her body, Ellemayne specifically. Something about Silverblade warranted it only be used in emergencies. Like the feral worgen, jumping out of the shadows and attacking that merchant and his wares and children. But she didn’t see the use in getting rid of that Goddess forsaken thing just yet. 

After a few moments of time had passed, Tay got up from her seat and went to meet this mage. If she could get out of there sooner rather than later, she would feel a great deal better than she felt at the moment. She found herself hesitating after reaching the top of the steps, one of the doors to the rooms closed, her signal the mage waited for her inside. 

Tay turned around and went back down, leaving the inn soon after. She looked around to make sure nobody followed her. The feeling in her gut remained, though she couldn’t seem to shake it off as she decided to travel to Stormwind’s harbors. 

~~~~~

She regretted making the choice to ride a Goddess damned boat again. She had spent the entire journey belowdecks, only daring to come up when night had fallen and the larger of Azeroth’s two moons hung high in the sky. When it rained she only buried her face into her knees, covering her ears with her arms. Every time that happened, though it did rarely, her chest ached for days after. 

When she had entered the city proper she made a beeline for the Temple, hoping to find even a temporary peace within. Tay reached the Temple doorway, sentinels on duty remaining as stoic and unmoving as they always seemed. She took a glance in and counted the amount of peoples within. A little over twenty. She went inside, keeping close to the walls as she stared at everything inside, eyes lingering on the statue of Haidene and a couple chatting quietly near it. 

“Goddess, please hear me this once. I ask much of You, never paying my respects. I humbly apologize. I ask You this night for some guidance in my path. I feel I have lost my way. I ask of one thing this night, some kind of a confirmation that I have not strayed. I would be eternally grateful. Even if after this one night you no longer grant me aid, the simple confirmation would be enough. I shall bother you no more, Goddess,” Tay mumbled as she stared up at the statue with a sense of confusion.

For the first time since she could remember, she felt like a lost and scared child again. She found herself falling to her knees and bowing her head in prayer. Despite her formal training as a priestess, she never truly put her skills to use. This had to be the first time she had prayed since leaving the Sisters of Elune. Tay may have done a few pleas here or there, but none so much like what she did here. 

Perhaps she could change, given some time. But it seemed so far off because of her actions towards others. She decided to not have contact with the two she hurt most, using them for her own personal pleasures and pursuits. She got off her knees, instead sitting, back pressed against the stone perch lining the temple walls. As her eyes began to wander, she noticed a human standing across the chamber, arms crossed and staring at her peculiarly. 

Tay’s face felt hot. The human, a female, had curious piercing green eyes. While the woman watched her, Tay looked away and absentmindedly ran a hand through her traveling satchel. She decided a skin of whatever booze she had on her would work if that stranger decided to bother her. She silently admitted to herself change wouldn't happen because she got caught in a vulnerable position by a good-looking human girl. 

Tay found a skin of human ale in her pouch. It would have to do for now, seeing that Darnassus had fruity wines and a lack of strong dwarven ale. She’d have to tolerate weak kaldorei piss-for-wine and this skin of possibly Alteraci in origin extra bitter until returning to the Eastern Kingdoms. Already she found herself in a bad mood. She took a deep drink of it, almost reeling away at how very bitter humans defined the “extra” part. It tasted more like something a so-called witch brewed in the mountains of Redridge. 

“Better than nothing, and you can get drunk off it,” she grumbled to herself. Tay drank it until she drained it, then shoving the empty skin back into her satchel. She knew better than to leave something related to alcohol in the Temple of Elune. That would have given her unwanted attention with priestesses and possibly a night in a jail cell. 

“You know you shouldn’t drink within the Temple, sister?” asked another woman. Most likely kaldorei, due to the term of respect they constantly used in each other's presence. 

Tay only shrugged, staring at the statue in the center of the room. “Sometimes a drink does more to calm me than this place.” 

“You're a woman of faith, I take it?” the woman guessed. 

Tay didn't say anything yet. She turned her head, glancing up to see who bothered her while she tried to ignore the eyes of others on her. The woman wore her hair in a long braid draped over the her should. Tay saw it was the same color as her own pine green, but the woman’s facial tattoos were of the blades, like her older sister Nar’s. Just like her sister's, the intricate designs of swirls and other patterns within the borders of the tattoos. 

“Not as much as my sister, milady. She was the religious one, said it helped with her troubles praying before the altars helped. She trained me in the holy ways. I never did utilize the healing aspects of it,” Tay answered. “Before I get struck down for not introducing myself, Taylande Silverblade, sellsword, mercenary, whatever you want to call it, at your service.”

The woman smiled, crossing her arms and standing straighter than a board. She stole a look at the young woman next to her, then returned her gaze to the center of the temple. “No need for formalities. Priestess Landrelia Moonblade.”

Tay's brow furrowed. She'd heard that name before. It came up enough when she still trained with Nar. “I remember you, Priestess. From Winterspring. I was still small and idiotic, but I can remember encountering you. Did you ever have dealings with Nar Bladesong?” 

Landrelia opened her mouth to answer, then paused. She took a moment to collect her thoughts and recall what she could. “I believe I recall someone of that name. What is it about her you’d like to know?”


	10. Shan'surfal

She needed a drink. She needed one _now_. As nice as the priestess had been in offering her lounging for a day or two, the woman neglected to mention the utter lack of alcohol. Goddess, how her hands shook and shook and shook _and. Shook._ Her breathing got irregular as she went out one night and purchased as much fruity shit wine she could tolerate. 

“You should cut back on that, sister,” someone told her. “Not good for you. Leave the drinking to pandaren and dwarves. Maybe the occasional human.” Her head processed Darnassian with a Commonspeak word here and there. Why not stick to simple Darnassian? Last time she checked, she looked glaringly like a kaldorei. A drunk one, but still kaldorei. 

She laughed bitterly. “I'll drink ‘til I black out, my friend.”

“Then perhaps you'd like to take a bottle along with you? And cut back. You've developed an addiction to this. Drop it,” the person responded, tone becoming icy. Their last words grew colder than the Lich King’s frozen throne.

“Yeah, no. I'll do that when goblins become druids and dwarves are sober.” She smirked at whoever suggested she lighten up on her drinking problem. Stealing a glance at whoever said that, her double vision made out the shape of the priestess from last night. Her stomach tied into a knot. This would not end well for her.

The priestess--Lan something--raised a hand. Perhaps the woman would smite her with the Goddess’s fury? “Your mother would be ashamed of you, Taylande.” She flinched at the use of her full name. It had become too often that she flinched at her own name, especially when she drank. But she couldn't help it. Torrolf got her hooked on shitty dwarven brew and that ass for a father of her’s made it into her own personal torment.

The priestess raised her hand, slapping the drink out of her reach. Wine spilled over Tay's clothing and the ground nearby. Her face knit into an expression of anger. She balled a fist and raised it, swinging in a wide, drunken arc easily countered by the priestess with a backhanded slap in the face. The priestess then flashed something bright in her eyes, dazing her. She fell backwards and thumped hard onto the floor.

“Cut back on it. I'd think you would want to honor the wishes of your mother, even if you've not seen the woman in a forever,” the priestess sighed.

Tay growled, breathing turning loud and heavy. “I don't have a mother. I never met her, never heard anything about her but a fake name and a fake story about her.” She barely made out the tilting of a head and raising of an eyebrow, that blinding flash still somehow disorienting her. Somewhat like the time she got an orc’s knee rammed in the side of her head, only she didn’t feel like collapsing into a heap. 

“Oh? Would you mind my asking about it?” the priestess responded. Internally, Tay rolled her eyes. Everyone asked about it, so she might as well get to explaining right then and there. She hauled herself into a seat at the bar. 

Her arms crossed in a defensive position. “Well,” she started, “My father’s an asshole. He lied to me. Said my mother was a woman named Val’riin. Then later on some woman… Kel--Ki--Kyena. Yeah. Kyena something or other. She saved me when he tried to kill me. All I’m saying.” Tay waited for the pity most people normally gave her.

Instead, the priestess smiled softly. “A respected general of the sentinels saved your life. Perhaps you are more important than you think, Taylande?”

Tay laughed audibly, shaking both from alcohol and the feeling of how much of a lie that statement was. “No, no, no, no. If I was important, I wouldn’t have been dropped at a temple like I’d asked.” She shook her head and balled her hands into fists to stop the tremors. Pushing herself from the seat, Tay huffed and began to stride off. The priestess followed her, remaining close but at a respectable distance. 

The pair walked together in silence. An unexpected turn to the left and up a ramp brought them near Temple grounds. Tay halted on the far edge, a wing of the small gardens nearby. She took a deep breath moved a few steps farther. The priestess stood back, watching. Tay sat down on the edge of the great platform the Temple stood on, letting her legs dangle off the edge.

From her angle, lanterns hung in windows to illuminate homes in the Tradesman’s Terrace and farther back to the Craftsman’s Terrace as well. The darkest patches remained in the Cenarion Enclave, as the druids typically never picked up on the trends. The lanterns had to be some strange new habit. Possibly to let the diurnal races see in the city at night. 

At this moment Tay savored the peace as she viewed the city. She could see some few kaldorei moving about, everyone most likely congregating in the Temple for a monthly holding of Shan’surfal. A holiday to honor the dead. Slowly, lights began to blink out within the city, and some stragglers emerged. They all made their way to the Temple. Shan’surfal, then. 

Tay spotted a few priestesses walking out as she slowly sobered up. At least she’d not gotten blackout drunk this time. The few were then followed by many others, mostly civilians plus some still-armored sentinels, holding small paper lanterns with unlit candles. Behind the large host followed ceremonially-dressed sentinels and priestesses, all either armed or holding an ever-burning candle within a simply decorated metal candle holder. It bore symbols of Elune and many other demigods on it, all on a silver background. 

She slowly pulled herself up from the ledge, watching the procession. They were all heading the same way. Everyone walked in unison, careful, graceful, feet falling together in a perfect invisible rhythm. The sentinels and priestesses with the candles all reflected the light as it fell onto those in front of them. Together, the two last groups parted as some draenei had been allowed to join in the group. Their in-step march never broke as the newcomers quickly adjusted. 

At the head of the parade, those who led the group went through the portal to Rut’theran. Most likely to loose the paper lanterns on the sea. Slowly but surely everyone went through the portal to the last soldier remaining out. A moment of silence for the dead. A night of remembrance. Tay looked up and saw the full moon peaking through the treetops.

Shan’surfal, the night of the full moon every month. Every month, when the White Lady was visible in her whole glory to everyone. And yet here she stood, drinking herself to death. She could honor the fallen. 

Tay glanced back at the priestess who followed her. Landrelia. That was it. Landrelia watched her with a curious look in her eye. Tay ran after the procession and didn’t look back. At Rut’theran, they most likely had extra paper lanterns. She saw the draenei who joined didn’t have one. The lanterns would be there. She thought they would. They might be. But she ran, rushing through the portal and skidding to a quiet halt behind the group.

The priestess she’d seen at the head of the group raised her hands to silence quiet mutterings and some weeping in the group. Tay’s heart squeezed as she remembered the deaths she caused, the brother she’d been forced to kill, and all those she served with who fell to the Legion when they assaulted Nordrassil. Somehow, still in her drunken state, she functioned enough to remember the pains of it. 

_You might be shit, but everyone has their dead to bury and honor,_ she told herself. Tay spotted a few of the paper lanterns some couple feet away from the hippogryph master on the island. She trudged forward and grabbed one. 

The High Priestess Whisperwind sanctioned this every month. Just so the peoples could honor the fallen. 

“I welcome you all to this Shan’surfal. Another welcome to our draenei allies who have joined us on this sacred night, to honor their dead with ours. Elune and the Light are here tonight, with us in their own ways. I ask we all set aside any kind of resentment towards our deities, and that we speak in the Common tongue for a better way of communication this night. I shall introduce myself, along with the sisters of Elune at my side. 

“I am Priestess Gladepetal, and on my left are Elder Priestess Liarra Riverstride, Battle Priestess Winterstar, and Moon Priestess Emistra Wildleaf. To my right, Elder Priestess Mellian Dewgather, Battle Priestess Bladesong, and Moon Priestess Falisa Ravenstrike.”

Upon hearing the name Bladesong called out, Tay felt her heart fluttering. Could her sister possibly be here? It had to be. The only Bladesong she knew was Nar, and she’d not seen Nar since her sudden leaving only some two centuries or so before the Legion assaulted the World Tree. It had to be.

Someone’s eyes rested on her. Tay looked up front to the line of priestesses that stood up there, but they all faced forward, stony eyes on the crowd. The hoods on the cloaks they wore were pulled up just enough to mask their eyes from the peoples. The center priestess who led the ceremony wore hers down, blanketed across her shoulders in a decorative symbol. 

She watched as the sentinels fanned out, all forming the shape of a crescent moon around the outer rims of the island of Rut’theran. They broke formation at the portal leading straight to Darnassus, then picked up around the end until they reached the docks. From the Stormwind dock to the Exodar dock, the crowd stood. Tay joined the group near the back, along with the draenei. 

“Excuse me,” one of the draenei whispered to her, “But would you like to join your people?” She glanced up and saw a very muscled draenei male with dark blue skin and light blonde hair that rested in three braids, two on each shoulder and one down his back. She spotted the beginnings of a burn near his collarbone and saw the three deep ridges across his nose. Possibly from Outlands and orcs, but she’d not ask.

“No, my friend. I’ll be fine back here. What is your name?” she asked quietly in return.

The draenei looked ahead. “Ka’vaan. Now hush, the priestess is starting again.”

Ka’vaan was indeed right, the priestess had started speaking.

“Brothers, sisters, honored allies, tonight we are here to pay our respects the shan’surfal: our honored beloved. This is a night of remembrance, of peace, of honoring the sacrifices made for the peoples and of those who passed on. Anyone may join, but you don’t have to perform the ceremony to honor the fallen. You may do so in your own right. As this line goes on, six people may come up and get your lantern lit to send off to the waters below the White Lady’s visage. Recite your names so Elune and the Light may hear. For those who have not seen, the Battle Priestesses Winterstar and Bladesong will demonstrate.” 

Winterstar and Bladesong stepped forward, passing their candle holder off to the Elder Priestesses beside them. Tay glanced backwards and saw Landrelia waiting by the portal, a faint smile on her lips. She whipped her head around, hair whacking Ka’vaan in the arm. “Sorry!” she whispered, a headache racking her. Tay tried to ignore it as the priestesses demonstrated.

Only known by their surnames, the battle priestesses Bladesong and Winterstar picked up a paper lantern and let the elder priestesses light them. The duo stepped forth, Winterstar kneeling in the water that now rose above her waist. Bladesong followed afterwards. Winterstar held the lantern and issued out a string of names, those of her shan’surfal, then let it drift off to the sea. Bladesong did the same, her paper lantern following the first.

They returned to where they stood in between the elder and moon priestesses, taking the candle holders. Together, the six priestesses held out the candles for those first people. Six kaldorei stepped forward and lit their candles. Each moved to different spots. They muttered their chain of names, their lanterns leaving their hands. After they were done, the six returned to the back and each row of lanterned hands moved forward.

As the night went on, the sea filled up with lanterns, all illuminated by the Mother Moon. The sea reflected the lights in the water, giving of a brilliant display that those in Darnassus might have seen had they just looked down. 

Tay’s row took its turn moving up. She had been positioned to where the lantern she held was lit by the Moon Priestess next to Bladesong. Tay controlled her breathing and masked her fears as she entered the water once more. Why had she chosen to do this when they had people going into the water? She knelt down, breath beginning to speed up as she recited a couple of names of those who fell in the Third War, of her second mentor Soraciel, and of Royce. 

She quickly retreated from the water, taking her place behind the many rows that now stood facing the waters. The Priestess Gladepetal instructed the other six priestesses to turn around to the water, their backs to the crowd. Each one set the candle holder at the food of the water and they took a step back. In unison, they lowered their cowls and raised their heads to the sky, moonlight reflecting off their faces.

Purples and blues and greens and whites of their hair shone on their head, each having it pulling to a braid, ponytail, or something else entirely. The Battle Priestesses each had vibrant purple hair, turning pale in the moonlight. The upper part of their hair had been pulled into ponytails. Nar did that with her hair, but it had been dyed green like pines, like Tay’s hair. Like Landrelia’s hair. 

It couldn’t be Nar. Her hopes were dashed. 

“Brothers, sisters, honored allies, we shall close this with a prayer. To Elune, to the Light, to our shan’surfal. Priestesses, aid us in this prayer.” At that word, the Moon Priestess on the very end of the line, Wildleaf, started. She echoed the words the High Priestess Whisperwind once said to the peoples during a prayer.

“Darkness held us close when we did not know the light of Elune. When we cried for guidance, for Her radiance, the moon shone upon us. Her light enabled us to see, to know, even when the moon did not shine down on us at all times. And it is to Her light we return.”

Winterstar spoke next. “When the wars came, many fell. They fell so we might live freely under the light of the stars and Elune once more. Azshara betrayed us, Stareye betrayed through inaction, but we fought. And so we survived.”

Then came Riverstride. “It is to Her we give praise, and it is Her we have always trusted. Elune gives us the power to heal, to mend, to smite those who would threaten our lands and our world. And so we fight.”

Tay noticed how Priestess Glatepetal remained quiet. She had never attended a formal Shan’surfal, but she knew most of what went on from what little she recalled in her studying as a priestess. Deep in her, she thought she sullied the title of priestess, shamed it, like she did her own family name.

Soon, Dewgather spoke. “Whenever silence fell and the Long Vigil began, Elune’s light guided us through the times. Through the hardships each of us endured, we had faith enough to make it through the night. And so we lived.”

Bladesong. Tay hoped beyond hope it was Nar, her sister. “As the Third War started and our isolation to the world ended, we were forced to take up arms to fight once more. The Sisters of Elune mended our wounds and nature itself rose again to aid us like it had before. Ten thousand years ago, events such as those shook the world and we rose again. And so we endured.” It was Nar. Her sister.

The one called Ravenstrike seemed to end the prayer. “When our times draw to their conclusions, it is to Her we return. Elune, guide our shan’surfal to Your side. May they rest peacefully among the stars and watch over us as we continue our survival, our fights, our lives, our endurance. So that we might one night join you.” 

Their eyes closed. Priestess Gladepetal turned around and raised her arms, a motion for them to join or repeat this closing line. “Anu’dorah; We remember. Zin-al-Elune.”

The echoes of many kaldorei voices, possibly some draenic, echoed her. “Zin-al-Elune.” The crowd dispersed after that, some buying a ride to Darkshore and others returning to Darnassus through the portal. The sentinels waited as the priestesses walked through and followed them into the city. Before the last one on the right side of the island left, she stopped and stared at both Tay and Landrelia, giving them a curious look. 

Tay stayed behind, watching as her sister strode right past her with her head held high and didn’t even look at the scrawny runt she’d raised as her own. Part of Tay was angry, but the other part told her to sit and cry. But she couldn’t. She wouldn’t.

Landrelia approached her after everyone had cleared out, placing a caring hand on her shoulder. Tay turned to look at her, the serious look replacing whatever other expression she’d worn earlier that night. She wanted to run or lash out or do something, though she didn’t and instead restrained herself from doing so. 

“What is it?” she asked.

Landrelia pat her shoulder once, squeezing it gently. “That woman. You looked rather distraught when you saw her. If I am intruding too much, I apologize, Taylande.” Tay shook her head. “I will listen whenever you speak.” 

“She’s my sister. Nar Bladesong. I haven’t seen her in a while and I thought she might want to speak with me. But all she did was walk off so… whatever. She’s… never mind it.” Tay shook her head and bit back drunken tears. She had sobered up enough in that water, but a throbbing headache remained. 

The priestess nodded in a silent understanding. Tay shrugged her hand off, taking in the sight of the sky one more time before she turned and stalked off to the portal leading into Darnassus. She had to pray at the Temple for an hour or two. Hopefully alone.

“I should introduce you to this Gilnean. Perhaps you’d get along, since she can act as sour as you,” Landrelia responded. 

Without looking back, Tay laughed--actually laughed--and answered in good humor, “Thank you, I’m glad you noticed my sourness.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ((DISCLAIMER: Shan'surfal is a fanon holiday made up by a collection of guilds on MoonGuard-US. I've simply expanded on the idea they brought to life through the roleplaying community. All guilds are primarily kaldorei.


End file.
